


Phantoms

by spinner33



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Drug-induced paranoia, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 60,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team is trying to stop the influx of tainted drugs which induce paranoia and hallucinations.  Meanwhile, Steve is in the hospital, recovering from an attack by ninja assassins connected to their main suspect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mó tǐ

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of two different story series: "Big Softie" and "Coda to 5.7". It involves characters and elements of both those series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited for clarity - LOL

Danny threw his box of take-out on the coffee table in front of the TV, fully prepared to sit down, take two bites, and fall asleep. After spending twenty-six hours awake, fishing dead teen junkies out of dumpsters, and chasing drug runners around the island only to come up empty, he was ready for a little down-time. The shower he had taken had only served to make him sleepier. When his phone started ringing, he was tempted to ignore it. But his guilty conscience (which sounded an awful lot like his mom) shook him by the nape of the neck and made him answer. 

“Mmnn?” Danny hummed. He felt a voice against his cheek. He turned the device over and around. “Yeah?”

“Detective Williams? This is Dr. Fran Weimer at Queens Medical.” 

Danny was wide awake in a nanosecond, heart in his throat. 

“It’s about Commander McGarrett,” Fran continued. Her serious tone brought a frightened whimper out of the seasoned detective. 

“Yes?” Danny breathed. 

“He’s in my emergency room.” 

Danny left the house in the clothes he was wearing – a pair of old sweats and a wife-beater tee. No shoes. Not even flip-flops. He jetted through residential streets in the Camaro, praying that no denizens of the night were on the prowl. He rambled to himself the entire way to the hospital, wondering what the hell Steve had gotten himself into. Hadn’t McGarrett promised him he was going to go home and get some sleep? Hadn’t McGarrett sworn he would let it go until morning, or at least until they had had a full night’s rest? Why was Steve such a stubborn idiot? Why did he have to try to do it all by himself? Why could Danny never say no when his arrogant asshat partner was in need of a friend? 

Why did they have to keep emergency rooms so freakishly cold? 

Danny smashed through the emergency room doors like a bull out of the chute at a rodeo. He bellowed loudly when his bare feet hit the icy floor tiles. He invoked several higher powers as he quick-stepped over to the desk. Even in his agitated state, he couldn't help but notice the bloody, bare footprints already on the tiles, like a wounded phantom had crossed his exact path very recently. 

The attendants both rose up at his arrival, wondering if he needed help. Dr. Fran appeared out of the side hallway. She scooped Danny by the arm before he could even ask where Steve was. Danny took a second to notice that the doctor was ruffled, and bruised, and upset. Dr. Fran treated the trouble-plagued 5-O team leader like an unofficial adopted son, not unlike the manner in which Steve was kind and protective of the car thief Nahele. 

“Angels and ministers of grace,” Dr. Weimer whispered, giving Danny a side-by-side hug before ushering him into what appeared to be an empty room. Except it wasn’t empty after all. A struggle had taken place in here. There were blood splatters across the table. Cabinet drawers had been yanked open. Med kits had been torn open and strewn about. A dirty needle and suture thread was unwound on the floor. Streaky, red hand prints crossed the floor and went down the wall. A pair of long bare feet were huddled together. Attached to the feet were long legs curled up tight to the chest of a shaking man. 

Danny flew across the room and knelt down by Steve. McGarrett lifted his head, gazing at Williams in complete confusion. Steve’s hands were streaked with blood, and his shirt was rent into shreds. His face was covered with sprays of blood too. There were traces of peculiar white dust on his skin and in his hair. 

“What happened?” Danny whispered. Steve didn’t reply. His head lolled against Danny as he faded in and out of consciousness. Danny repeated his question to Dr. Fran. “What happened?” he pleaded. 

“I don’t know,” Dr. Weimer replied. “He stumbled through the doors about twenty minutes ago, but he wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Can you help me get him back on the table?” 

Danny pulled Steve to his feet and walked him awkwardly towards the silver surface. Crimson droplets spattered the ground in Steve’s wake. He was leaving bloody footprints as well. Dr. Weimer got McGarrett’s long legs up, settled him in place, and put a hand on his lower stomach. His clothing was soaked and dripping. 

“Commander, you need to let me examine you. No more lashing out,” the doctor scolded gently. 

“Lie still,” Danny ordered sternly, stationing himself by the side of the table, and taking both of Steve’s awful hands into his own. “What did you do, babe? What happened?”

Dr. Weimer lifted Steve’s shirt, and opened his cargo pants. There were several long gashes and a couple stab wounds across his chest and stomach. Rivulets of dried blood were caked on his skin, covered over now with fresh ooze. But what made the doctor gasp, and what turned Danny’s stomach, were the irregular knots of black thread across the larger wounds. 

“McGarrett? Did you stitch these yourself? What is the matter with you?” Dr. Weimer asked, horrified. She crossed the room in two steps, and banged hard on the button by the door. “I need a team in Room 3. Stat.” 

“I….I think I killed her….” Steve stammered to Danny. 

“What, babe?” Danny pressed. 

“I think I killed her,” McGarrett rasped, eyes closing. There were tears welling up under his lashes. 

“Who, Steve?” 

McGarrett wouldn’t answer. He was ashamed, but he couldn't seem to put into words what had happened. 

“Keep him on the table,” Dr. Weimer ordered as she produced a pair of clothing shears seemingly out of nowhere, and began to expertly remove Steve’s pants and shirt. Steve was awake and fighting in a heartbeat. It was all Danny could do to keep McGarrett horizontal. He heard a sickening snap or two as the SEAL’s makeshift stitches popped free, tearing thread and skin alike. 

“STOP TOUCHING ME! STOP TOUCHING ME!” Steve was screaming, biting, and swearing. 

“STEVE?!” Danny bellowed, ducking swinging fists. Hospital attendants appeared, helping the detective haul the wounded man down again. 

“The patient is ex-military. I think he’s been drugged. I need a sample of that powder on his skin. It’s possible he’s confused, and that he’s having PTSD flashbacks. We’re going to need to sedate him,” Dr. Weimer ordered the nurse by her side. 

It made so much sense when the doctor had said it. Why hadn't Danny thought of that before? Steve was kicking and fighting again, struggling against both the large attendants and Dr. Weimer alike. Danny fought his way back into the fray, and planted himself right in Steve’s face. 

“Commander! Lie down! That’s an order!” Williams shouted, hands pressing firmly down on McGarrett’s shoulders, holding him to the table. 

Steve froze. His confused eyes focused on Danny and stayed there. 

“Do you understand? You need to lie still,” Danny commanded sternly. 

Steve nodded, mumbling softly. “Sir…” 

The nurse was tapping a syringe in her hand. The needle was in and out of McGarrett’s hip in a flash. As he was falling under, Steve’s face filled with a terrible fear and guilt. 

“Danno?” 

“I’m right here,” Danny whispered. “I won’t leave. I promise.” 

“I think I killed her.” 

“What happened, Steve? Who did you kill?” 

“Mom….” Steve could barely get the word out. Tears spilled quietly down as his gaze drifted away into the empty space on the other side of the room. Danny stroked his hair and stayed close, murmuring quiet, comforting words.


	2. The Last Boundary of Polite Society

Have you ever awakened with the horrible feeling that you’ve done something which crosses the last boundary of polite society? You’re not sure what you’ve done, which is a bad enough feeling in and of itself. But you’re convinced you’ve behaved egregiously, unforgivably, and you will henceforth be banned by all, shunned until the end of your miserable days? 

Steve resurfaced in the late afternoon the following day, his system flooding with self-loathing and misery. He knew he was in the hospital because of the ugly ceiling tiles above his head. His entire body hurt. He swallowed loudly, and tried to move his hands. He was surprised to find they were shackled to the railings of his hospital bed. He tested his feet, and found they too were restrained. This did not bode well. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Danny murmured as he bent down over the prone man, cradling his head in one palm. A thumb stroked through Steve’s spiky, dark hair. Fingers went scrunch-scrunch-scrunch on top of his skull. 

Danny’s amazing grin and China blue eyes filled Steve’s whole world for a moment. At least Danny cared about him, whatever Steve had done. He wasn’t a complete outcast. He wouldn’t have to wander the rest of his days alone, drifting from place to place like a lone wolf in the Alaskan wilds, stealing food in bites and scraps, never again knowing the warmth of a friendly camp fire. Steve sniffled, and swallowed the lump of pain and sorrow in his throat. Danny touched his forehead with a gentle, affectionate kiss. Dazed eyes lifted to half-mast. McGarrett’s brow furrowed. He tugged one wrist, and quizzed Danny without uttering one word. 

“Oh, that?” Williams purred with amusement. “Rumor has it, you woke up during surgery, grabbed the scalpel from the doctor, and scared the freaking heebee-jeebees out of everyone. You were fighting your way off the table when they knocked you under again.”

One brow arched in bland disbelief. Except that there was a puncture wound in his right palm….. 

“Yeah, I thought it must complete bullshit too. Whatever you did, you caused a helluva commotion. One of the nurses actually had a heart attack. The team working on you had to put the nurse having the heart attack up on a second table to perform CPR on her until a second team could be called in. You think that’s funny? You really are a goddamned animal.” 

Steve wasn’t laughing, because that would have been far too painful, not to mention inappropriate. His chest jerked once, twice, and he may have smirked for half a second. Danny untied the bonds which held Steve’s wrists, if only because it gave him an excuse to touch and caress his hands. Someone else was undoing the bonds on his ankles. 

“Yesterday you pulled out your IV, pried open the windows, and attempted to scale down the outside of the building. In your hospital gown. Mooning everyone. Dr. Fran decided she needed to take precautionary measures. You behave yourself, or I’ll tie you up again,” Williams warned. 

Images were coming back to Steve as he swallowed again. He couldn’t seem to find enough spit to form words. Doris McGarrett’s face swam in front of his eyes. She was backed up against a brick wall. Blood was streaming from her mouth, and from the wounds in her chest. She was whispering his name as her last breath rattled in her chest.

_“Stevie…I love you…”_

“Mom?” Steve whispered, cringing. 

Danny caressed his hair again. 

“On that topic, we didn’t find a body. Doris is not dead.”

“No body?” Steve asked, clearing his throat. 

“We found the apparent scene, in the darkest fucking alley in Chinatown. Your blood and your prints were everywhere, and there was someone else’s blood as well. Are you with me?” Danny asked. 

Steve nodded. 

“Thank you, by the way. Thanks for once again cutting a decade off my life, and scaring the living shit out of me. Thanks for making me feel like you think you’re the only one who can do this job right. I know you want to be the lone wolf, out there doing it all on your own, but we’re partners, you big idiot. Will you once and for all get that through your thick skull? What? Don’t give me that look, babe. I’m inches from punching you in the face," Danny scolded. 

Steve frowned. “She’s not dead?”

“As far as I know, Doris is not dead. Babe, I think you were hallucinating. I think you got dosed with Nubes-Noveum. It was causing you to see things. Horrible things.” 

“Mom’s not dead?” 

There was a tearful snort and noisy sobs from the other side of the bed. 

“Steve, Doris is not dead,” Danny repeated. 

“You found a body?” 

“No. We didn’t find a body. There is no body to find.” 

Steve whimpered, “Then how do you know for sure?” 

“How do I know? For starters, babe, you weren’t using silver bullets,” Danny grinned brightly. There was a burst of ashamed, uncomfortable laughter. Danny took a moment to high-five someone across the bed. Steve turned his head slowly in the other direction, ready to bark and bite. Mary was standing there, eyes red from crying, and from lack of sleep. 

“Mar?” 

“Yes, it’s me. Yes, I flew all the way here. And no, I’m not happy with you either,” his sister said, punching him hard in one shoulder. 

Steve’s chest jerked once, twice. He was mouthing something as his eyes welled. 

“What’s that?” Danny puzzled, getting nose to nose. 

“Love you. Sorry.”

“You got nothing to be sorry for,” Danny soothed.

“Sorry I scared you. Both of you.” 

Steve was asleep again before Danny could reply. That didn’t stop Williams from responding though. 

“I hate you. I hate you with the heat of a thousand burning suns. I hope you’re happy. You made me cry in front of Chin. Jerk.”

When McGarrett awoke again, it was Mary staring down at him. She pouted, tucked her pointy chin against Steve’s chest, and smacked him on the forehead several times with her palm. Her tiny thumb kept bumping his sore nose. 

“You’d better wake up. You can’t just fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, Steve. It’s rude. You can’t leave me alone like this. I didn’t come all the way to Hawaii to watch you die. Do you hear me?” 

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow,” Steve mumbled. 

Mary smacked his forehead a couple more times. 

“You’re not allowed to scare me, and you’re not allowed to die.”

“Ow. Hurts. Ow,” Steve mumbled, fending her off with one arm. “Danno?” 

“I made Danny go home. He needed a shower, and he needed a good night’s sleep in an actual bed. He made me promise to call him when you woke up again. Think we’ll wait till morning though, all things considered.” 

“Mm hmm,” Steve hummed. 

“You all right in there?”

“Why?” 

“You were talking in your sleep, that’s all,” Mary replied. Her eyes filled with genuine concern. She straightened the top of his hospital gown, and tucked his blankets closer. “Joe White was here. Do you remember talking to him?” 

“No,” Steve replied. He pawed his chest, wondering what lay under the layers of blankets, gown, and bandages. Everything was a blood-streaked blur for him. 

“That’s probably for the best,” Mary reassured him. 

“Why?” Steve worried. 

“You were sort of upset.”

Steve cringed, and hoped she would go on, but also hoped she wouldn’t. Was Joe ever going to speak to Steve again?

“Chin and Kono were here too. They brought some candles with them. The doctor wouldn’t let them light the candles, but they’re sitting over there.”

Mary pointed to the window sill. Steve could make out a couple round lumps, and a tiny totem or talisman wrapped around them, shell-dotted cord swinging back and forth below. 

“Do you want to talk about what you saw?” Mary wondered. Her eyes changed expression again. Steve shook his head no. “Okay. You don’t have to talk about it. Whatever happened. It’s all right. Get some sleep.” 

 

 


	3. Flashback

*Flashback*

Steve and Danny had their guns out, and were prowling down a Chinatown alley, following the Navy SEAL’s hunch. 

“You were right about them going low-tech. Chin said the local surveillance cameras picked up the extra foot traffic, although it has died down considerably in the last couple hours. What?” Danny murmured.

“Say it again,” Steve smiled a little. 

“What?”

Steve cupped a hand to his ear and leaned closer. 

“I was what?” he prompted. Danny frowned in annoyance.

“You were right.” 

“I couldn’t hear you? What did you say?” Steve teased. 

“You were right, you arrogant prick. But I think we’ve seen all there is to see tonight,” Danny replied. “Steve? It’s been a day and a half. Let’s go home.” 

The H5O team plus SWAT plus HPD had managed to haul in twenty different drug mules weaving through the usual foot traffic, blending in with the locals. They were snagged at the various HPD check points. None of those arrested were high-level mastermind geniuses though. They weren’t responsible for putting this plot together, to distribute tainted Nubes-Noveum all over the island. Max had seen enough dead junkies in his morgue in the last week to haunt his nightmares for months. They had spent the morning fishing three, count them, three different dead teenagers out of dumpsters. 

“We can’t call it a night yet. Our job is not done until we reel in the big one,” Steve remarked. 

“Uh huh. Sure. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on here,” Danny replied sternly, following in Steve’s wake. 

McGarrett paused, ostensibly to check the number of bullets in his clip. 

“Yeah? You know what’s going on? Really?” 

“You’ve gotta let it go, Steve.”

“Let what go?”

“The Cleavers.” 

Steve growled and concentrated on the alley again. 

“What happened with Joan and Patty, that’s not on you. You can't keep pushing yourself this hard. You have to stop punishing yourself for doing your job. Admiral Cleaver is the one to blame. You were doing what had to be done,” Danny continued. 

“For better or for worse. For rich or for poor. In sickness and in health,” Steve was muttering sarcastically. 

“I know you’re mad. But you have to stop punishing yourself,” Danny warned. 

“Mrs. Cleaver survived by the skin of her teeth. Months in the hospital. And after all Dave did to her, she’s not going to file for divorce? I mean, sure, I understand. She took a vow, and she’s not going to abandon her marriage. That’s great. Good for her! But that man has tried to kill her, repeatedly! She’s just…she’s…. I just….”

“I know,” Danny soothed.

“If a complete stranger came into your house and did to you what Dave did to Joan, no question that stranger would be punished to the fullest extent of the law,” Steve rambled. 

“You’re absolutely right. Steve, you’re scared for Mrs. Cleaver. I understand. Don’t think I didn’t work my share of domestic violence situations. You don’t know what it’s like unless you’ve been in that situation, Steve. Aren’t you the one who said that to me? You don’t know what she’s feeling until you’ve been in her position. You don’t know what she’s thinking.” 

“Okay, sure, I believe that, but when your child’s life is at stake?” 

“You can’t make the decision for Mrs. Cleaver.” 

“She is going to die.” 

“Be that as it may, maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did.”

Those words brought Steve around with a hiss and a snap. He whirled on Danny and yelled at him. 

“I was not going to let Patty go back into that situation!” 

“Shhhhh,” Danny cautioned. “Okay. All right. I get it. I understand.”

“Yes, I called in Child Protective Services! Yes, I filed the paperwork to get Patty taken away from her mother! Fine. There. Are you happy? I said it. I did what I had to do, and I feel fucking awful about it! But I couldn’t let Patty go back to her mother, knowing her mother was not going to divorce her father. Joan was packing up the house, waiting for Dave to get released from prison. She is biding her time, because she knows the Navy is going to dismiss the charges, and Dave is going to get another assignment, and they’re going to move again, and it’ll be the same old, same old!” 

“Steve, stop yelling at me,” Danny begged.

“Next time, no one is coming out of that house alive! Dave is going to kill Joan, and he’s going to kill Patty, and he’s going to kill himself, and I’m not going to let that happen to an innocent little girl!” 

“Steve, you don’t know that’s what would happen,” Danny murmured. 

“If Joan Cleaver wants to stick to her vows, because she thinks being a martyr to her marriage is going to make her the number one angel in Heaven? Fine! That’s great! That’s her decision! It’s not like I didn’t spend months trying to talk sense into her. She doesn’t want to listen!? That’s fine! She can march happily towards her own death if she wants to do so!”

“Steve, calm down,” Danny urged, because everyone was staring at them.

“If she has decided she is ready to die, that’s her decision, but I am not going to let her force Patty to die too!” 

“Buddy? I’m on your side. Remember?” Danny murmured gently, running a hand on Steve’s upper arm as McGarrett seethed and breathed harshly, chest rising and falling. 

“I did the right thing. Patty is safe in Ohio with her aunt now. She isn’t living in fear every waking moment of her life. Patty is going to make it to her eleventh birthday. I did what I had to do to save that little girl’s life. Do I feel bad about it? Yes! Do I feel like I kicked Joan Cleaver in the stomach and stole the only thing she loves in this world? Yes! I feel fucking awful about it! I hate myself! But I did what I had to do!”

“Okay. Shhhh. Shhh…” Danny whispered. 

Steve huffed at Danny and turned away again, concentrating on the shadows in the brick alley around them. 

“Talking about this will make you feel better, I promise,” Danny added. 

“Shut up,” McGarrett blurted in a harsh, petty tone. 

“Steven,” Danny chided. 

“Let’s just concentrate on our case.”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. “That’s a great idea. And by the way, you’re full of shit.”

“How am I full of shit?” Steve argued. 

“Concerning this case, you’re full of shit. No one who organized this is going to be anywhere near the scene when it goes down.”

“You don’t think so?” 

“I’m not a criminal mastermind, but I’d like to think the smartest place to be is anywhere else but the crime scene.” 

“You clearly are not a criminal mastermind. You don’t spend months planning and plotting this, and then not watch it go down. You’re gonna wanna be right there when it happens, so you can savor every moment,” Steve disagreed. 

“Babe, be that as it may, it’s time to go home for the night. Okay? We need to rest." 

Danny tugged gently on Steve’s arm, pulling him away from the dark shadow he was heading towards. 

“It’s time to go home,” Danny repeated. 

McGarrett allowed himself to follow along as Danny guided him, hand on his arm, hand on his back, tugging, pushing, drawing him along. They climbed into the Camaro, and Steve took them back to the office. Steve pouted in silence the whole way. Danny marshalled words and sentences around in his brain, but never spoke. He settled for patting Steve's arm, rubbing gently in the small of his back. Steve stared out the windshield like a stone golem. When they reached the office, Steve rolled out and paced for a second, waiting for Danny to come around the car so he could give him the keys. Then Steve turned on one heel and headed for the building. Danny grabbed his shirt tail and reeled him close enough to take hold of his hips. 

“No. Paperwork can wait. Go home and sleep, Steve,” Danny moaned, fishing Steve’s keys out of his pocket for him, and shoving him towards his truck. Danny climbed into the Camaro, and headed for home. 

Steve climbed into the Silverado, and headed back to Chinatown.


	4. Threads That Are Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoa nelly - trigger warning for torture memories

McGarrett froze. He caught a scent on the air. His eyes centered on someone in the crowd, and he went into his zone. He was truly like a wolf on the trail of his prey. 

It was an older man in the company of a youth who had caught McGarrett’s eyes. Most people would have mistaken them for father and son, or maybe for a man-boy-love situation, given the time of night and the part of town, but not Steve. They stood out because they weren’t smiling. They were too serious. They were communicating with hand signals and directional head tilts. They weren’t part of the crowd. They were fish swimming through the crowd around them. It was the fact that they didn’t look alike which caught Steve’s attention. 

The boy could have been adopted, Steve reasoned as he fell in step behind them. Pangs went through Steve’s heart as his most private thoughts sprang out of that box in his mind that he refused to open, but which popped apart at inopportune times, its contents disavowed but ever present. In the box were memories of a dirty room and a cold table and a leering face and the knives, oh god, oh fuck, oh no, the filthy knives, and he can’t move, and fuck you he’s not going to beg and he’s not going to scream out no matter how much it hurts, but it hurts, how it hurts, oh god, pain is weakness leaving the body, pain is weakness, pain is pain, and he can’t breathe, but he’s not going to scream. He’s closing his eyes because he can’t close his legs, and someone is holding his arms. The leering man is wearing gloves, but the monster’s arms are red to his elbows and Steve knows that’s his own blood he’s seeing drip, drip, drip to the floor. He can’t he just can’t he just can’t deal with it, and unconsciousness won’t open her arms to him, so he has to hide all those slippery and crimson thoughts away in a box in his mind, in a room he doesn’t enter, in a corner he pretends isn’t on the map. Here there be monsters. 

Steve stopped for a deep breath, taking a precious second to seal the box better so the lid wouldn’t budge again, at least not tonight. He couldn’t let those thoughts in, not right now. He needed to concentrate. 

Steve followed as the pair circled back and around again. Had they caught his scent on the air too? The older gentleman glanced over one shoulder and looked directly at McGarrett. He smiled, nodded, and Steve knew it. He felt it. That nod had been the direct acknowledgement of a worthy opponent. Their battle would now commence. The older gentleman touched the youth on the forearm. 

They separated swiftly in divergent paths, like one big fish becoming two smaller fishes. Steve caught his breath. He turned in the direction of the older gentleman, forgetting the youth for the moment. The older one – that’s who Steve should follow, even if the path was taking him into a dark and tangled alley. 

There was nothing there. No movement. No breathing. Only dirty bricks and trash. Steve prowled towards the darkest niche, the only logical hiding place. When a shadow in the niche moved, Steve raised his gun and aimed between the almond brown eyes. 

The shiver of a silvery mist enveloped him, raining down on his skin from above. He lurched, buried his nose in the crook of his left arm, and fired his gun twice. A masked shadow dropped between Steve and the older gentleman. The bullets bounced away off the bricks, taking out chunks. 

The weapon was kicked deftly from his grip. A knife flicked out, a thin switch which caught the bare rays of light. Steve arched his body, and barely managed to yank his ribcage out of the path of that deadly blade. The cutthroat distracted Steve with the thin, sharp blade, and he didn’t even see the other weapon until it was buried in his side. Steve grabbed the second blade and held on. The assassin had no choice but to let go. In spite of the fact he was dribbling blood, Steve grabbed her wrist and held on tight enough to snap bones. 

Her. He knew instinctively it was a woman. The masked assassin continued attacking Steve as the older gentleman vanished between one glance and the next. 

Steve’s world was flickering like an uneasy ghost. The perimeters were wavering. He couldn’t breathe. He felt his blood rushing around, reddening his face, streaking down his chest, soaking into his pants, trickling down his legs. He felt uncomfortable and wet between his legs. The box in his mind sprang open again, and he fought with the memories as much as he struggled against his assassin. 

Steve pulled the second, heavier blade out of his side, and used brute force and gravity to shove the lithe assassin into the bricks. He held her with a forearm to her throat. He snarled and rammed the blade up under her ribs. He relished the warmth of her blood as he yanked off her mask. 

Pretend car noises brought Steve to the surface from his dreams. He was lying in his hospital bed, shaking and trembling. Someone was rolling a toy car up his right arm and down over his chest, making engine noises.

“Vroom, rumble rumble rumble, bumpy road. Watch out for the bumpy road, Daddy. Oh no. Don’t drive us into the ditch, soldier. Shit. What were you thinking? Now what do we do? Call for backup!” 

The car stopped on Steve’s growling stomach. Small green eyes met stormy blue hazel eyes. There was a squishy noise as the little boy shoved a thumb in his mouth. He nervously retracted his car from Steve’s rumpled blankets. Then he pulled his thumb out so he could speak. 

“Hi,” he blurted before he shoved his thumb back in, pulled it back out, and left his arm down by his side. He studied McGarrett nervously. Steve found a reassuring if small smile. 

“Hi.” 

“You shouldn’t move. There’s a bomb in the road,” the boy warned. 

“Is there?” Steve asked softly as his stomach growled louder. He propped himself up on his elbows. 

“You can’t move if there’s a bomb,” the boy added. He was dressed in a school uniform, with an over-large white lab coat thrown on top. The lab coat draped down to the floor. 

“Okay,” Steve answered, holding perfectly still as the boy sneaked close again. 

“Nana said you’re a soldier. A SEAL. Is that true?”

Steve nodded again. “It’s true.” 

Was this Dr. Fran’s grandson? The boy ran to the end of the bed, and lifted the end of the blanket. He stared skeptically at Steve’s bare feet, and back at the head of the bed. 

“You're not a seal. You don’t have fins,” the child wailed in disappointment. 

“Not that kind of seal. It’s an acronym, a word built from initials. The letters stand for something else. Ess-Eee-Aaa-Elle. Sea air land,” Steve whispered. 

“Ess-Eee-Aaa-Elle,” the child repeated. 

"Sea air land," Steve repeated. 

“Hey! I’m an acronym too!” the child exclaimed brightly. 

“You are?” Steve puzzled. 

“My daddy was a soldier.” 

“Was he?” Steve whispered, wondering how that made the boy think he was an acronym. 

“You can’t move if there’s a bomb. If you move, you die. But if you call for backup, and if you sit tight, soldier, and don’t move a muscle, the bomb guys will make it all better. The bomb guys make the boom disappear.” 

“You know a lot about bombs,” Steve observed dryly. 

“My daddy was killed by a bomb.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmured. 

"Me too." 

The child raced to the chair beside the bed. He brought an armful of objects to the blankets. He piled hotwheel cars on Steve’s stomach along with a scarred phone. The case was pitted, and the screen was cracked, but Steve knew in his heart that the phone was the boy’s most sacred object. Steve also knew that the phone had been in a terrible explosion. The boy pressed buttons with the swift speed of a magician. He flashed a picture at Steve. It was a young man in fatigues, with brown hair and green eyes, holding a baby and smiling so proudly. Steve’s heart crumbled, and he hurt clear through his soul and beyond. Everything he would never have was right there in that picture. 

“That’s my daddy, and that’s me, right after I popped out of Mommy. I didn’t actually pop out. Nana said they had to go in after me. You can see Nana’s shadow. She’s taking the picture. That’s Mommy’s knee. She was not happy that Nana took her picture then. Jesus Christ, Fran. But it’s okay. They’re friends now. I’m Thomas Jordan. My daddy was Thomas. Nana calls me TJ."

"Then you are an acronym," Steve agreed. 

"Nana says I’m going to be just like Daddy when I grow up, except she’s not going to let me be a soldier. I’m not allowed to be a soldier, and I’m not allowed to play ice hockey. Which that seems like totally stupid to me. But Mommy agrees. She wants me to be a doctor. So does Nana. I don’t want to be a doctor. I want to be a dolphin. What’s your name?” 

"Steve," the commander replied as he gave the phone back to TJ. The youngster put the phone in the pocket of the long white lab coat, and put his thumb back in his mouth. They studied each other again for a few seconds. The thumb came out, and Steve waited patiently for more words. 

“What happened to you, Steve? Was it a bomb in a bumpy road?” 

“Nope,” Steve replied, grabbing the head of the bed and pulling himself into a sitting position. 

“Were you attacked by ninja assassins?” TJ hoped, eyes glittering with interest.

“Actually, yes,” Steve rasped. 

“That’s so cool!” TJ exclaimed. He scrambled up into the hollow end of the bed where Steve’s legs had been. “Tell me what happened!" 

“Nope,” Steve replied, slowly shaking his head side to side. 

“Was it really scary?” 

“Yes,” Steve nodded, brows dipping. There was a prickle of annoyance in his tone. TJ read it quickly, and backed off at once. 

“Would you rather play cars?” the youngster asked. 

“Yes. I would much rather play cars." 

“Cool."

TJ was smiling again as he moved cars around the blankets, keeping some for himself and shoving several at Steve. The only noises in the quiet room were TJ’s engine noises, and Steve’s growling stomach. Maybe TJ was afraid to say anything. Steve hoped he could encourage more words if he spoke again. 

“These are nice muscle cars,” he commented. The glittering candy-red and bright neon-blue paint, tiny rubber wheels, and plastic parts made Steve smile as he thought about driving his own toy cars along the fender of his dad’s Marquis, watching his step around Jack’s legs as his dad muttered about tools and parts. Steve rolled the tires with his fingertips, remembering the taste on his tongue. He had chewed a lot of the tires off of his own hotwheels when he was too small to know better. 

“What’s a muscle car?” TJ wondered. 

“Built for speed. Lean, mean, driving machines,” Steve replied with a playful bounce of the eyebrows. The smell too – the smell was familiar. Metal warmed by rubbing fingers and by heavy dreams. Being behind the wheel of fast-moving machines was a fantasy Steve had never outgrown. TJ created a race track in the wrinkles of the blankets, pushing out valleys and hills, driving right over one big foot in his way. Steve squirmed and moved his foot. 

“Cool,” TJ replied, extending the word several syllables. He lifted a red Firebird, examining the object with an eagle eye. 

“Very cool,” Steve agreed. 

“Are you hungry?” TJ asked. 

“No,” Steve denied. 

“Your tummy is growling again.” 

“I'm okay,” Steve stone-walled, rubbing his chest through the thin gown and the bandages. He could feel stitches and staples. A growling stomach was the least of his worries. 

“Hang tight, soldier.” 

TJ dropped his cars, and leapt off the bed. He hurried to the doorway, and peered both ways before venturing out. Steve heard beeping in the hallway, and then a door opened with an electronic melody. Small feet thumped around in the room next door. TJ returned in short order, tossing a paper bag up on the bed. 

“Nana made me lunch.”

Steve lifted the bag and read the letters on the side. 

“PJ for TJ.” 

“PJ for TJ. Bran for Fran. PJ for TJ. Bran for Fran,” TJ sang, climbing up, grabbing the bottom of the bag, and dumping cellophane-wrapped food on the bed – two halves of a sandwich, cheese cubes, carrot sticks, apple wedges, and a juice box. “I’m glad it’s PJ for TJ, because bran makes you poop,” TJ said privately. Steve snorted, and held his chest against the pain. TJ pushed the food at Steve as easily as he had shared his cars. Steve blanched with shame. 

“I can't eat your lunch, buddy,” he whispered. 

“Yes you can, Steve. If you don’t feed the monster, it gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the kitchen floor at midnight, elbow-deep in a bowl of leftover wing-dings, and you’ve got barbeque sauce up to your pits. At least, that’s what Nana says happens.”

TJ stripped half the sandwich, and slipped the offering into Steve’s hand. It was wheat bread with seeds on top, with a layer of beige-brown and purple between the slices. It smelled like mischief and trust. TJ stripped the other half, and dove right in. Steve took a more cautious bite, letting the taste roll off his tongue. 

“Mmmm…..chunky…” Steve cooed happily, rubbing tiny bits of crushed peanut against the roof of his mouth. TJ smiled in reply, peanut butter dotting his face on both sides of his mouth. 

“Do you like carrots?” TJ asked. 

“I love carrots,” Steve nodded. He munched on a stick or two with one hand, driving cars around the bed with the other. TJ dropped cheese cubes everywhere, driving over them before popping one in his mouth. Steve wolfed down the rest of the sandwich half. He paused to lick a stripe of grape jelly off his palm, and that’s when he noticed the orthopedic shoes in the doorway. 

“Hi, Nana. Did you fix that lady’s toes for her?” TJ asked casually. 

“TJ,” Dr. Fran sighed, arms over her chest. “Yes. I fixed Lieutenant Jasmine’s toes for her. She’ll be wearing sandals again in no time. TJ, this is not Nana’s office. Commander Steve needs his sleep.” 

“He needs food. His tummy was growling,” TJ protested. “We were playing cars. Nana…..” the boy complained as Dr. Fran ventured over and drew him off of the bed, putting him down on the floor, fluffing his hair up then down again. 

Steve sheepishly dodged the motherly eyes that Dr. Fran was sending his direction. She reached over to thumb his cheek, holding back a chuckle. 

Another figure appeared in the doorway. China blue eyes misted with nostalgia and affection. 

“You and Commander Steve can play cars some other time. Detective Danny and Commander Steve need to talk in private.” 

“Yes, Nana,” TJ sighed. He gave Danny a dirty look, like somehow this was all his fault. Steve helped him put the uneaten parts of his lunch back into the paper bag. TJ tossed the cars in as well. 

“Bye, TJ. Nice to meet you,” Steve said with a wiggle of his fingers. 

“Bye,” TJ replied. "Watch out for bombs." 

"I will," Steve promised.


	5. Daddy Mode

Steve McGarrett was not a man who blushed on a regular basis, but the twinkle in Danny’s eyes totally unnerved him. His cheeks felt hot. He stared down at his lap, out the window, anywhere but at Danny’s eyes or his devastating smile. Danny slid an arm around Steve’s shoulders, and kissed the top of his head. Steve was stammering as he shrank down. 

“I…um…”

“Shut up. Let me savor your moment of cuteness without interruption,” Danny muttered. 

Even while hugging him, Danny was picking him up under the hips, scooting him downward, wrangling him like a professional. Williams was in Daddy mode. Danny tucked the blankets tight around Steve, but it did no good. The injured man fought his way back to sitting against the headboard once more, fending Danny off with not-so-gentle shoves. 

“Steven, please lie down. You look like a zipper factory exploded. You need to stay as horizontal as possible, and you need to rest,” Danny was muttering, his tone angry even as his touch was careful. Steve wondered how Danny knew what his chest looked like. He hadn’t even seen it himself. 

“I don’t need rest. I need needle-nose pliers,” Steve commented dryly, peering down into his hospital gown. He was all bandages from mid-chest to hip bones. How did Danny know what was underneath? 

Danny’s brow furrowed, and his mouth twitched. He smacked Steve’s fingers away from the top of the gown. 

“Are you going to leave the staples alone, or do I need to get my cuffs?” 

“Kidding,” Steve yawned. 

“Behave,” Danny ordered. He was fluttering a folder back and forth, back and forth. He was debating with himself. He tossed the folder down at the foot of the bed, out of Steve’s reach, and he pulled out his phone, dialing slowly. 

“Take-out?” Steve hoped. 

“No, but I’ll get you some food, babe. We’ll ask Mary if she could bring you something on her way back. She and I have been playing tag-team with you. Promise we’ll feed you soon,” Danny murmured, phone under his chin. The connection picked up, and Danny frowned into nothingness, not wanting Steve to think the change of tone was directed at him. “White? It’s been twenty-four hours. Talk to me. How’d you do? Well, well, well.”

A wicked smile bloomed over Danny’s face. He switched hands with the phone. 

“Aren’t you amazing? They oughta give you the Bloodhound of the Year award. Sarcasm? I have no idea what you mean. Put her on. Yes, right now. Don’t be a dick, Joe. I know where you live. Hello? Hello. What? No. Hold up. You’re not here to talk to me, lady.”

Danny tucked his phone to Steve’s cheek. 

“Stevie? Is that you? It’s Mom.” 

McGarrett’s voice died in his throat. The one word that rushed up threatened to turn into a gush of noisy sobs, and there was no way he was going to cry. Not in front of Danny, and definitely not in front of Doris. Steve held on tight for a second or two, but eventually he had to breathe, because the pressure inside his chest felt like it might pop out every last one of his stitches and staples. The pain and the need for air caused him to let go of his usual reserve. 

“Mom?” McGarrett squeaked. Tears rushed out no matter how hard he tried to fight them. There was no stopping once they started. Danny looked horrified and apologetic. He hadn’t meant for his well-intended gesture to crush Steve this way. He sat down on the bed, unsure where to touch to soothe and not upset him more. 

“Sweetie, listen to me. Whatever you saw the other night? That wasn’t me. I wasn’t anywhere near Chinatown. Okay? Please don’t cry.”

Steve inhaled loudly, gasping and choking. He managed to nod once or twice, hand rising unconsciously to cover his mouth and nose in hopes of stifling himself. 

“Are you all right?” Doris asked. Danny could hear her side of the conversation because the volume on the phone was so loud. 

Steve nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. 

“Pull yourself together, sweetie. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine,” Doris continued with a stalwart tone which felt out of place. Danny wished she would show a little more emotion, even if it was only a front. 

“Love you,” Steve struggled, unsure if he should let the words out or not. Doris was silent for too long. Danny could feel Steve shriveling up, withdrawing inside himself, fearing he had said too much. Danny hated hard on Doris for leaving her son hanging emotionally, at least until she finally found her nerve to answer. 

“I love you too, sweetie. Sorry I can’t talk longer. This isn’t a secure line. I gotta go. You understand?” 

Steve couldn’t manage any more words. He sniffled loudly. Danny scooted closer, putting a one-armed hug around Steve, rubbing his back. 

“I promise you, we’re going to go to lunch, and we’re going to have a proper visit. We’re going to talk for hours and hours. Just you and me. Okay? But I can’t right now. I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself,” Doris offered. 

It was a lie from the outset – Danny knew it, and what’s more, Steve knew it too. Doris was never going to come visit, and they were not going to have lunch. But it was something Steve had needed to hear. The part of him which longed for a normal, happy family could pretend for a little while. He would put on a brave face, and hide inside the fantasy. 

“Do me a favor. Tell Danny Williams I said he’s a pain in the ass, but in the best possible way,” Doris said, her voice tinged with annoyance and affection. 

Steve nodded again. Danny was muttering to himself, anger darting through his features. It occurred to him suddenly that Doris was responding as if she could see Steve nodding in reply to her answers. He hadn't said yes or no, but she knew what he was saying. But how was that possible, unless she could see him? Danny leapt up from the bed, and snapped the shades wide open. Nothing out of the ordinary caught his eyes, but he continued to scan around the other buildings and the hospital garage as well. 

“Love you, sweetie. Bye now.” 

“Bye,” Steve squeaked. 

“Hey, Williams? You little shit? You there?” a different voice took over the call. Steve waved the phone at Danny, who spun around from the windows with a skeptical scowl on his face. Danny scooped up the phone from Steve. 

“What do you want, White?” Danny asked. 

“I went way out on a limb for you. You owe me one.” 

“I owe you nothing.”

“I had to pull a lot of strings.” 

“Why don’t you pull me instead?” Danny barked back, his Jersey accent and attitude rising to the forefront, shoulders and hands talking hard right along with his mouth. 

“Whatever, tough guy. Tell Steve to take it easy, not to push himself so much. Get some goddamn rest. He looks like hell.” 

That did it! Williams was convinced Joe White and Doris McGarrett were watching close by. Danny was muttering obscene words under his breath as he disconnected the call. He smacked the phone down on the mattress a couple times before sliding it into his pocket. He paced in front of the windows, waiting to see if a dark sedan with tinted windows pulled out of the parking garage across the way. He waited, and waited, and saw nothing. He finally turned his attention back to the patient. 

Steve was a wet, disheveled mess. He was too out of it to understand why Danny had been scowling out the window. McGarrett ducked in shame, and rubbed his blanket over his features. Danny snagged several tissues. He pushed them into Steve’s face. 

“Come here. You’re so embarrassing,” Danny muttered like he was mad, but there was awkward tenderness in his eyes. 

“ ‘m okay,” Steve insisted. 

“Babe, quit squirming. You’re a mess. You’ve got snot everywhere. Come here,” Danny chided, holding more tissues to Steve’s face, waiting for him to cooperate with the plan. 

If Steve had been red before, he was perfectly crimson now. Reluctantly he leaned his face into Danny’s hand. 

“All better,” Danny murmured. He tossed away the tissues, and snatched up the folder from the end of the bed. “You want details? Lovely, gory, distracting details?”

He was waving the folder under Steve’s nose as the SEAL nodded vigorously. 

“Yes, please, thank you,” Steve mumbled, rubbing his red eyes. 

“Good,” Danny muttered. He was pretending annoyance again, but his face rippled and tightened against the tenderness breaking through. “Here we go. Dr. Weimer was correct. You were sprinkled with Nubes-Noveum by the assailant in the alley the other night. The nitwit reporters are calling the drug 'Cloud 9', apparently because they think two words in Latin are too taxing to tangle with. According to other survivors who have also sampled the wares, including our very own Dr. Bergman, for scientific purposes only, Nubes-Noveum isn’t tainted opium like we first thought.”

“But the chemical similarities…” Steve protested. 

“This drug is an hallucinogenic opiate, but it's actually been designed to bring out your worst nightmares. I honestly can’t think of anything more stupid. I mean, who is going to buy a drug that scares them like this? But hey, like we already established, I am not a criminal mastermind, so what do I know?” Danny rambled. 

Williams picked up more tissues, wiping his own nose this time. He studied his friend judiciously before asking him another question. 

"Most of our overdose victims have been teens and young adults. Junkies looking for a fix. Stupid kids acting out at parties. People who can't afford to be too choosy. You know, that's odd. Isn't it? Don't you think we're missing something here? It's like, who goes to the trouble to design a drug like this, then sells it so cheap? It must cost a fortune to hire a chemist, a botanist, a crew to make this up for you? None of this is making sense. You wanna tell me what you were dreaming about before you stabbed your assailant, thinking it was your mom?”

Steve shook his head no, shrinking down, shoulders tensing. 

“One of your black ops misadventures?” Danny ventured carefully. 

Steve thought about it, and shrugged in reply, eyes on the blankets. Danny stroked his hair, and continued right on talking. 

“Max dreamed he was stuffed in one of the morgue drawers, and that he was awake for his own autopsy. A junkie who came within inches of an overdose reported very vivid hallucinations about being assaulted in lock-up.”

Danny paused, and reexamined the top page in the folder. 

“Scratch that. She wasn’t assaulted in lock-up. She was assaulted in high school. She was in lock-up when she experienced the hallucination. There we go. Someone needs to learn how to distinguish a dangling modifier. Not my report, need we say more?” 

Steve smiled a little in reply, and let Danny continue speaking. Williams folded the pages together and held them as a whole. He was shaking his head. 

“Who the hell would buy a drug which conjures their worst nightmare?” Danny complained. 

“I dunno,” Steve shrugged. 

“Max said that having had a chance to examine the various samples from around the island, he’s convinced it’s not a mistake. It's too complex to be a mistake. The drug is specifically designed to scare you. Hey, that nurse who had a heart attack while you were in surgery? Maybe she got too close to you, and she accidently inhaled the stuff on your skin and in your hair? Maybe she hallucinated that you woke up on the table? Just a thought.”

“Sure,” Steve agreed, even while running a thumb over the bandaged stitches in his right palm. 

Danny was flipping pages back and forth again.

“The good news is, we got a hit,” Danny smiled finally. 

“A hit on what?” 

“We found your blood and prints in the alley in Chinatown, and those of the person you were fighting. I took a good look at the blood spatter patterns in the alley, and at your injuries. Kono and I did a little role play to figure out the physical stats of your assailant. Considering that most of your injuries are below the mid-chest level, below the nipples and down, we decided that your attacker was between five-three and five-seven. Right-handed with the thin blade. Left-handed with the shank blade. The second weapon was serrated on one edge. We found it a few blocks away when we did a grid search of the area. You’ve gotta see this thing. It’s in evidence right now. Beautiful ivory handle. Kono said she thinks it’s an heirloom—early nineteenth century. It’s an antique at any rate. Anyhow, Chin has been monitoring hospitals all over the state, and lo and behold, we think we might have found your assailant.” 

Danny produced a picture from under the others, putting it in Steve’s lap. McGarrett’s eyes got wide. He back-crawled until his spine was against the wall. He went from relaxed to wheezing, trembling hard. 

“I’m gonna take that as a positive identification,” Danny said, quickly stuffing the picture back into the folder. He stroked Steve’s knee, coaxing him to relax once more. “Sorry to spring her on you that way. I didn’t trust you not to cover up and hide from me. I needed a pure reaction.” 

“Who is she? Have you interrogated her yet?” 

“That’s my boy. Right back down to business,” Danny purred his appreciation. “Her hospital records say her name is Yu Lan."

Steve frowned, and shook his head no. 

"What?" Danny demanded. "I got the page right here." 

"Yu Lan. It's a holy day. It's the Festival of the Hungry Ghost," Steve whispered. 

"So you're saying it's an assumed name?" 

"It's like a pun almost. It's worse than a fake name. Like Sandy Beaches. Harry Palms. IP Freeley?" 

"She's using a name which would be an obvious give-away to anyone who spoke the language?" Danny questioned. 

"Yeah," Steve agreed. 

"Tell me about this festival." 

"I don't know a lot about it. During the seventh month of the year, the gates of hell open. Spirits of the deceased return. You're supposed to pay tribute to your dead ancestors. Appease the spirits. Leave out food and drink."

Danny digested the sleepy comments as Steve took the folder from him, flipping through the pages of reports. 

"Yu Lan, my ass," McGarrett was growling at the picture. 

"We'll get a DNA sample, and see what our hungry ghost is hiding from us. She may have gotten a few jabs in on you, but she did not get away unscathed. Tests confirm that the blade which she shivved you with is the same blade you used to aerate her left lung. You also broke her right wrist. She’s going to be out of commission for a while. ICU for the next few weeks. She’s under arrest. I moved her from the hospital where we found her, back here to our turf. I put a watch on her, her room, her floor, her hospital. The question here is….” 

“How did Yu Lan get from an alley in Chinatown to a hospital?” Steve puzzled. 

“Not just any hospital. She was on Maui in the most chic-chic hospital I have ever seen in my entire life, ever. Private room. Private nurses. Private doctors. Like I said, I brought her back here. She’s in an undisclosed location. I’m not even going to tell you where she is.” 

“Do you think he’ll come back for her?”

“He who?” 

“He must have helped her.”

“He who, Steve?” Danny demanded impatiently. 

“The man with her. I saw them in the crowd. I thought they were father and son. She looked like a young boy. Not very old. All of twenty, if that."

“It says twenty-five on her hospital records, but hey, we’re not so sure that’s her real identity. This is all speculation. You wanna give me a description?” 

“Of who?” 

“Of the guy who was with her?” Danny pressed. 

McGarrett shuddered and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know. It’s all kinda blurry in my head.”

“That’s okay. Chin scanned Yu Lan’s picture into the computer. He’s running the surveillance footage from the other night through facial recognition software. If we find Yu Lan, we’ll find the man who was with her soon enough.” 

“I need to get to the office. I’m no help on this case from here.”

Danny cupped Steve’s shoulder in one hand. 

“Babe, this is not about you being help on this case. No one expects you to rush right back into the fray. You take enough time to pull yourself together.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“The fuck you are. You need to stay right here in the hospital. You need to rest. You’re in no shape to be at the office.”

“I need to help solve this case,” Steve insisted. 

“Have you talked with Dr. Fran yet about what happened to you?” 

“It's nothing. I’ve been hurt a lot worse than this. A lot worse than this.”

“It's not nothing. You, my friend, are in denial. You almost bled to death. Yu Lan missed your renal artery by a thread. She made sushi of your abdominal muscles. You’re making Constipation Face. You aren’t believing a word I’m saying. I’ll be back in a second. Stay right here.” 

Danny headed next door. Steve experimented with putting his feet on the floor, and had to hold a hand against his lower stomach to keep himself together. How annoying! How was he supposed to get in a decent workout with injured abdominal muscles? You can’t swim. You can’t lift weights. You can’t do crunches. So much for exercise bike either. He might be able to do pull ups though, maybe. 

Dr. Fran appeared in the doorway, her shoes squeaking on the tiles. Danny was nudging her into the room. She sighed, and approached the bed with more than a little apprehension. 

“Danny tells me you’re already planning your escape.” 

“Sorry, Dr. Fran, but I’ve got work to do,” Steve mumbled. 

“I’d prefer to go through your particulars in consultation with the doctor who assisted me, because your injuries are more his area of expertise than mine. But Danny said you’re threatening to pull your staples with needle-nose pliers, so you need to be cautioned about your condition. Bear in mind, this is not my forte. I had to consult a urologist, an internal specialist, and a renal specialist as well.” 

Dr. Fran sat down, folded her hands together, and cleared her throat. Danny lingered by the doorway, holding TJ on one hip. Dr. Weimer shooed them away with a whisk of both hands. They vanished from sight. 

“Commander, Detective Williams is right. You need to stay in bed. You almost bled to death. Your attacker missed your renal artery by a hair’s breadth. Your abdominal wall is being held together with duct tape and bailing wire. We kept plugging holes, and your blood pressure kept on dropping. It was touch-and-go all night. When we opened you up to find out why we couldn’t stop the bleeding, we found a lot of scar tissue, which I would normally have attributed to sloppy previous surgeries, but given the fact your civilian medical file doesn’t mention so much as an appendix removal, I consulted with the Navy on your military medical file.” 

“Oh,” Steve mouthed, pale and shaken. 

“Captain Karlsen told me how you incurred the injuries in question,” Fran stammered. “Or at least what she surmised must have happened.” 

“Oh,” Steve breathed, chest clenched against shame. 

“I removed as much scar tissue as I could. But once I got a good look inside, I knew I needed help. Dr. Helldorfer took over surgery for me, and he did his best to repair your internal damages.”

Dr. Fran cleared her throat. Steve’s head was spinning. The room was closing in on him. He couldn’t look up at the doctor. He was digging his nails into his palm, holding on for dear life. Dr. Fran reached out again, resting her hand on the blanket, not on Steve, but close. 

“I know this is extremely personal. I don’t mean to embarrass you. Tank said she tried to talk to you at the time, but you were reluctant to even discuss what happened, and you never dealt with it emotionally. You wouldn’t talk to a therapist. You wouldn’t talk to her. She even called your father, but you wouldn't talk to him either. You avoided the issue of corrective surgery because you wanted to pretend nothing had happened, that it was just another mission. But it wasn’t, was it?”

“I’ve….I….” Steve stammered. "I wasn't going to tell my dad what happened." 

He wanted a do-over for today. He wanted to go back to waking up, where the only person he had to deal with was a curious five-year-old and his toy cars. 

“Hon, I’m pretty clear on the notion that your method of dealing with pain is to ignore what hurts until it heals, or until it falls off. But you can’t do that in this situation.”

Steve gave an uncomfortable chuckle, unable to raise his eyes. "Why not?" 

“Commander, Dr. Helldorfer is one of the best. You couldn’t be in better hands. Truly.” 

“Mm hmm,” Steve hummed, eyes on the floor. 

“Long story short. You didn’t lose a kidney. We were able to fix your abdominal wall. You won’t be peeing into a bag for the rest of your life. That’s a plus. Dr. Helldorfer was able to mix and match parts, and he managed to salvage one of your vas deferens tubes, so that’s good news too, right?”

Steve was breathing awkwardly, noisily.

“What?” he managed to murmur. 

“I’m not making any promises. We’ll take a wait-and-see approach. There was quite a bit of damage. Let’s give you a few weeks to start healing, and we’ll do some ultrasound scans. See how you look,” Dr. Fran whispered. “Hellsie said if you need more corrective surgery after that, he can do it with a couple small incisions and a microscope camera. In and out that day. Nothing but a nick or two to heal. When it’s all said and done, if you can’t have kids the old fashioned way, you could go in vitro. I’ve done that. Not as a doctor. As a patient.”

“You have?” Steve lifted his eyes just a little. 

“Commander, don’t give up hope yet. There have been amazing advances in fertility treatments for men and women both. But if you’ll take some unsolicited advice? Start small. Get a goldfish. Work your way up that food chain.”

Steve gave a wet, slimy snort of laughter. Dr. Weimer smiled in relief. 

“Would I lie to you? Parenthood is not for the faint of heart. I love my kids, but they will test your patience, and they will tear out your soul.” Her voice cracked a little. This time Steve reached out and took her hand. 

“Thanks,” Steve whispered. 

“You’re welcome, hon. For now, you need to lie down, on your back not your butt, and you need to get some rest. No more talk about needle-nosed pliers, hmm?” 

Steve caved to her demands. He squirmed around, getting horizontal under the covers. TJ was leading Danny into the room by one hand. 

“Are we gonna need the cuffs?” Danny asked. 

“No,” Steve said. 

“You wanna watch cartoons?” TJ asked. 

“Fabulous idea,” Dr. Fran interjected. "Careful, TJ." 

The youngster climbed up on Steve’s bed again, scooting his way around, planting an elbow in Steve’s middle which made the SEAL squeal and wince. 

“TJ!” Dr. Fran scolded. 

"Oops. Sorry.” 

“I’m fine,” Steve lied. 

“Hey, kid, I’ll give you twenty bucks if you sit on his feet, and don’t let him move until I get back. Whaddya say?” Danny grinned, opening his wallet and slipping TJ several bills. 

“Whooooooo,” TJ squealed, climbing up on Steve’s feet. Dr. Fran adjusted the commander’s blankets again, and pulled an extra pillow out of the closet for her grandson. Danny turned on the TV on the wall, and gave the remote to TJ. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Danny promised, ruffling Steve’s hair. Dr. Fran and Danny were around the corner and in the hallway when they heard TJ speaking again. 

“Did Nana wind up your thumb? Do you want my help?”


	6. Bite the Hand that Feeds You

“Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself. You’ve got another nasty set of scars,” Mary murmured. 

Steve muttered under his breath in annoyance. He was busy keeping a damn eye on the young man standing on the other side of the bed from his sister. The doctor’s curious fingers were roaming over the patient’s abdomen and stomach in a much-too familiar manner. Aside from the fact that it hurt like hell, it also felt odd and uncomfortable. He couldn’t shake the feeling the doctor was enjoying his discomfort. Steve was not happy. 

It had been hate at first sight between Steve and Helldorfer, and the situation was getting steadily worse. Cocky, arrogant, and handsome, the too-familiar young man had appeared out of nowhere at almost eleven p.m. He had sauntered into Steve’s room, and without so much as a friendly greeting, he had flipped the covers aside, and started fumbling his hands under Steve’s gown. 

It had been an unwise decision. The doctor had found himself flat on his back on the icy tile floor with an angry, sleepy SEAL planted on his chest. Said SEAL’s big hands were encircling the stranger’s throat, choking away his voice and his life. If Mary hadn’t been there to haul Steve off, Steve would have throttled Helldorfer right then and there. Alas, Mary had saved the young man’s life. More’s the pity. Steve hadn’t given up hope at taking Helldorfer out though. Mary had not taken her eyes off the handsome doctor. She was perfectly enthralled by him. Steve was anything but, and all the more annoyed by Mary’s reaction. She was beaming blissfully at Helldorfer. 

“Level with me, Commander.” 

Helldorfer gave a hearty laugh and tried to engage Steve in conversation, but he was playing the room, doing this for Mary’s benefit and amusement. Mary lit up, swaying like a flower following the sunlight. Steve wanted to puke. 

“What?” McGarrett grumbled. 

“I know sure as shit Dr. Fran wasn’t telling me the whole truth about what happened to you. She said in her report that you got snipped by some hack-doctor while you were on duty overseas. But I know how you military guys are. I know how you operate. I deal with macho guys like you all the time." 

“Mmm hmm?” Steve hummed skeptically. 

“So level with me. Did you give yourself a vasectomy with a flashlight and an exacto-knife?” 

Helldorfer was dead. So very dead. He might be breathing for a few more seconds, but he was living on borrowed time. Steve unleashed a calculating smile which would usually have sent people fleeing in another direction. Concentrating on Helldorfer, vivisecting him with his eyes, Steve was distracted from the real danger in the room. Mary stiffened like she had been shocked. 

“Vasectomy?” 

The word fell off her tongue like a brick. Mary lashed out reflexively, pounding Steve on top of the head several times. Steve shouted in surprise, and shoved her away, forgetting for a moment that she was petite, literally half his weight.

“What the hell were you thinking, Steven!?” Mary demanded as she pulled herself up off the floor. 

“Stop hitting me,” he pouted, rubbing his head. 

“I have miscarriage after miscarriage after miscarriage trying to have a baby, and you’ve got the nerve to get a goddamned vasectomy?!” Mary accused.

“I didn’t know you had a miscarriage,” Steve whispered. 

“I had three, Steve! Three!” Mary complained bitterly. “Why in the world would you get a vasectomy? You love kids! What were you thinking?” 

“I didn’t….” Steve started to explain but his voice stopped dead in his throat. He glared at the smiling Helldorfer, who was drinking this in with glee. He was dead, so dead, it was only a question of how. 

“I knew it. It was you, a couple friends, and a bottle of whiskey. Did you use dull cutlery from the mess hall?” Helldorfer joked. 

“I had to buy my daughter on Craigslist!” Mary wailed unhappily. 

Steve turned his attention back to Mary, who was sniveling and dabbing her red eyes. Never before had he been so grateful for her ego-centric view of the world. 

“I’m sorry, Mary. I really am. I didn’t know,” Steve soothed. Mary blew her nose, and smacked Steve on top of the skull again. He pushed her off balance, and smirked when she landed on her butt on the floor. She leapt up, glared at him, and stayed a couple feet out of arm’s reach this time. 

“Commander, if I’m correcting something you don’t want changed, I can reverse the reversal,” Helldorfer offered. Steve shook his head no. Mary reached over and pinched him hard on the forearm. 

“Steve! No! I want Joanie to have cousins. Lots of cousins. I’m depending on you! You are going to start making some babies as soon as possible. It’s time you found a nice girl, and settled down.” 

That comment earned her a nasty, spine-shriveling glare.

“Or not. I don’t care about….you know. Look, I like Danny. I like Danny a lot. You can stay with Danny, and find a nice surrogate. But, Steve, you are not getting any younger, and if you don’t start now, you’re going to be sitting in a rocking chair with a baby on your knee.” 

Steve slapped Mary’s pinching fingers away, and threw a pillow at her for good measure. That proved to be a tactical miscalculation. For starters, it hurt like a son of a bitch to turn and throw an object, any object, because the movement pulled on his healing abdominal muscles. But the biggest problem was Mary's reaction. She picked up the pillow and held it in her arms, smiling wickedly at her brother. She was biding her time now, saving it for later, when she would no doubt smother him in his sleep. 

“Was it a SEAL thing, Steve?” she asked. “Did you and your buddies get drunk, and the situation got out of control?” 

“No,” Steve barked. 

"Did you get fixed in the back room at a tattoo parlor in Shanghai? There's no way that procedure was performed by a medical professional," Helldorfer interjected. 

"I never said it was, smart ass," Steve snarled at him. “Hey, hey, hey!” he protested, grabbing Helldorfer’s hands by the wrists and pushing him away. “You don’t touch me there without buying me a drink and blowing in my ear first.” 

“Commander, I’m a doctor.” Helldorfer actually rolled his eyes. Steve’s fists clenched with the yearning desire to smash the man’s nose. 

“I don’t care if you’re the Pope!” Steve growled. 

“I need to know if your sexual organ will respond to external stimuli.”

“Not in front of my baby sister, you don’t,” Steve howled.

“Should I leave the room?” Mary tittered. 

“No,” Steve pleaded desperately. 

“Yes, please, Miss,” Helldorfer replied. 

Guess who Mary listened to? She smacked Steve with the pillow on the way out the door. 

“Oh, hey, Mary? Where’s Dr. Fran and TJ?” Danny asked as he and Chin opened and closed the hallway door, waiting for the security keypad to light up, indicating the extra measures had engaged. 

“They left a couple hours ago. He said thanks for the twenty bucks though.”

“How’s the patient?" Chin wondered.

“Madder than heck at the moment,” Mary purred. She was enjoying this far more than she should have been. 

"What the heck is going on?" Danny worried as the chaos began in earnest. 

There was much yelling and screaming going on inside Steve’s room, followed by one very loud, high-pitched shriek. An arc of metallic clanging and clattering was heard – probably a tray of medical instruments had been thrown across the room. The bed slammed loudly against the far wall. There was another bout of panicked shrieking as the privacy curtain around the bed was yanked off the tracks in the ceiling. 

Mary cackled as she peered into the window in the door. Chin went pale, his mouth hanging open as the screaming increased. Danny decided it was time to barge in. 

“Steve!? What is the matter with you? Put him down!” Williams shouted. “Stop biting him! STEVEN!?!” 

Mary and Chin dodged back from the doorway in the nick of time. Dr. Helldorfer bolted past them, clothes askew, screaming at the top of his lungs. Both his hands were protecting his crotch. His steps were akin to the gait of a drunk ostrich. He disappeared through the hallway door with a loud bang, his screams echoing behind him. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Danny scolded, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“He was touching me,” Steve snarled. 

“He’s a doctor,” Danny chided. “Babe, God, you’re bleeding everywhere. I’m going to get help.” 

“Not him,” Steve growled like a feral cat who had caught his tail in a fence. 

“Not him,” Danny promised.


	7. Ohana

“So this guy, he’s a chemist?” Danny asked Chin, leaning back in his plastic chair and stretching his tired legs. 

Chin had been watching people come and go in the small waiting room. The two of them were now alone here. Danny wondered if the reason Chin had avoided coming to see Steve at the hospital was because it was bringing up bad memories of how his beloved wife Malia had died. 

“We could go back to the office, and talk about this there if you want,” Danny offered, putting a hand on Chin’s arm. 

“No, brah. It’s six a.m. I’m worried what’s taking them so long. Where is Steve, and what are they doing to him?” Chin wondered. 

“The nurse said she’d let us know when he was out of recovery,” Danny replied. He stood up and paced around, peering into the round window in one side of the double doors. “It looks empty in there. There’s a cleaning crew swabbing the place down, but I think they must be done. Could they have cleared out by another exit?”

“No one came through this way,” Chin frowned. 

“They must have forgotten we were out here. Mudderfudder, I’m so tired,” Danny yawned. “You wanna go see if Steve is back in his room?” 

“Sure. We’ll pop up, and then head home,” Chin nodded. 

“I dunno if I’m safe to drive. I’m pretty punchy,” Danny replied. They headed for an elevator nearby. “This guy. He’s a chemist, you said?” 

“Yun Fei. Yes. He’s a chemist from mainland China. He’s known for his work on experimental pain medications. Much lauded and praised for his devotion to bringing ease and tranquility to terminal cancer patients.” 

Danny climbed into the elevator with Chin, slouching against the wall as he frowned. 

“Go on,” Williams urged.

“He’s amassed a fortune working the R and D side of the pharmaceutical business, but he’s always been dogged by rumors that his money has been earned on both sides of the law.”

“How so?” 

“The same drugs which bring pain relief to terminal cancer patients can also give a happy-happy, joy-joy high to your average street addict.”

“Good point. I sense there’s more.” 

“Max is busy doing a side-by-side comparison of the chemical formula of Cloud 9 and the entire spectrum of Yun’s available pain killers. Going to see if this might be an off-shoot of one of his other money-making ventures.” 

“That’s the thing that’s bugging me,” Danny muttered. 

“What’s that?” Chin countered. 

“It’s not a money-making venture, this one. This stuff is being scooped up at bargain basement prices by people who can’t afford to buy the good stuff.”

“That would seem to suggest this isn’t the good stuff?” Chin offered. 

“But he’s known for the good stuff, am I right? Whichever side of the law, he’s known for the drugs that will ease your pain and calm your mind.” 

“Yeah, brah.” 

“So if Yun is making beaucoup bucks in China with his legitimate, altruistic pain relief for terminal cancer patients, why in the world would he be involved in making this nasty crap, and selling it on the cheap here?” 

“Can’t be cheap to make,” Chin frowned. 

“No, it can’t,” Danny agreed. 

“I mean, even if he is doing the work himself, it’s going to cost. Even if it’s a home brew from his basement, he’s got to pay for the ingredients, the packaging, the delivery.”

“Them cookies don’t make themselves, hmm?” Danny laughed. 

“Cookies?” Chin puzzled sleepily. 

“Do you smell cookies?” Danny asked as they exited the elevator. 

“Fresh-baked cookies,” Chin agreed. The two men were almost whimpering with hunger, following the enticing scent. 

“Where were we?” Danny asked. 

“Cookies,” Chin replied. 

Kono poked her head around the doorway as Chin and Danny walked past Dr. Fran’s office. 

“Cuz! Jersey! Where have you been?” 

“Cookies?” Danny asked. 

“Waiting for Steve to get out of surgery and recovery. But I think they forgot we were waiting back there,” Chin complained. He sniffed and studied Kono hard. “You made cookies?” 

Kono smirked, head tilting to one side. 

“When do I have time to make cookies? No. I went to Coco Jo-Jo’s. Steve likes her macaroons.” 

“You got Coco Jo-Jo to open early?” Chin was amazed. 

“Nope. Jo was already in the kitchen. But I did tip her big for making extra macaroons.” 

“Cookies?” Danny whined pitifully. 

“They’re for Steve,” Kono insisted sternly. 

“Cookies?” Chin whined too. 

Kono popped open the white box in her grip. Danny and Chin lit up with delight. These macaroons weren’t just thumb-print sized dollops of coconut, tacky little haystacks which fell apart with the first bite. These were jumbo-sized, baked to perfection, lightly-tanned, solid and amazing cookies. The scent of vanilla and coconut was overwhelming. Both men took two. Danny stuffed a whole macaroon in his mouth, and went back for a third. That’s when Kono closed the box top on his hand. 

“Do you want to hear what I dug up on Mr. Yun Fei and his alleged criminal underworld dealings?” Kono teased the words out, putting the box in Dr. Fran’s office and closing the door. 

“Where’s…” Danny asked, pointing that direction. 

“Dr. Fran came into work, let me onto the floor, and went off to do her morning rounds, visiting her patients. I told her what happened with Steve. The night watch had already briefed her. Brah, she was laughing her ass off. What? Don’t talk with your mouth full. Haven’t you got any goddamn manners, Jersey?” 

“Where’s our favorite Super SEAL?” Danny mumbled, chewing and swallowing. 

“Haven’t seen him yet. There were people here cleaning and straightening his room. Did he really bite his doctor’s ule off?” Kono asked Chin specifically. 

“He gave it his best try,” Chin chuckled. 

“Why did Steve go full-frontal Exorcist on the guy?” Kono wondered. 

“When does Steve need a reason?” Chin replied. 

Danny knew there was more to it than that, and Chin did as well, but maybe for gender solidarity reasons, the guys weren’t willing to get more specific. Steve had been angry and shaken, and in serious freaking pain when they had wheeled him away to repair the tears in his healing injuries. 

“Until he gets back, and we can ask him, we’re going to be left wondering,” Danny interjected. “Ule?”

“If I gotta explain, brah,” Kono shook her head at him, her eyes travelling south on his body. Danny’s brow furrowed and then his eyes tightened. 

“Ouch. Okay. Tell us what you found out about our guy?” 

“Yun Fei. Is that his real name?” Kono wondered. 

“Probably not,” Chin answered. 

“Why do you ask, for those not armed with Google Translate?” Danny pressed.

“Cloud pilot,” Kono remarked. 

“Cloud fly,” Chin argued. 

“Metaphorically, he pilots you through the clouds,” Kono retorted. “It’s got to be a pseudonym, an alias.” 

“What did you find out?” Danny asked. 

“On the front side, Yun Fei is a respected business man who earned his money making drugs for terminal cancer patients, donating time and effort and considerable resources to their care. On the back side, Yun Fei is linked to street drugs which will cure whatever hurts, for a price. His name is connected with a string of legitimate orphanages, and a pipeline for illegal adoptions.”

“Well, that’s curious,” Chin murmured. “In what way?” 

“In addition to spending time and money on cancer patients, he also donates money to build orphanages in rural villages in China, Mongolia, and southern Russia, taking care of abandoned and neglected children. There’s a string of them – they're called The Happy Place.” 

“Maybe Yu Lan is one of the children who has benefited from Yun Fei’s generosity? That’s their connection.” Chin was thinking, munching, thinking, munching. “She grew up in one of his orphanages, and she thinks of him as a father figure.” 

“She grows up, and goes to work for the man who raised her?” Kono asked.

“That’s almost heart-warming,” Chin murmured. 

“Yeah, it would be quite touching, if not for the whole ninja assassin angle,” Danny smirked. 

“Good point,” Kono agreed. 

“You think he’s got a bunch of them?” Chin asked. 

“Bunch of what?” Kono asked. “Grateful orphans or ninja assassins?” 

“Both. Either. But mostly the ninja assassins," Chin worried. 

“Why does he care about cancer patients? Has he been ill? Has a family member, or a friend, or a spouse been ill?” Danny interrupted. 

“His first wife, a Russian model, divorced him and moved to France with her half of their combined net worth at the time,” Kono replied. 

“Bet that hurt,” Chin snorted. 

“He’s worth billions. He probably didn’t even feel it,” Danny sighed. 

“His second wife, also a Russian model, drowned in the Caribbean while they were on their honeymoon,” Kono continued. 

“Suspicious circumstances?” Chin hoped. 

“No, man. He was devastated. Had an airtight alibi. Made good with the police. Was cleared of any wrong doing,” Kono countered. 

“What’s his connection to the cancer patients? There’s gotta be a reason the topic is close to his heart. PETA?” Danny blurted.

“PETA?" the cousins echoed in unison. 

“Steve. He donates to PETA every month. I’ve seen the emails. He sponsors a rescue cat in Oregon, One-Eyed Jack? PETA sends him pictures every month. Talking up how this kitten was pulled from a dumpster, missing one eye. Some bastard kid was carving up strays for kicks. The vets didn’t think One-Eyed Jack was going to make it. But after months and months of hand-to-mouth feeding and special care, the spunky little monkey pulled through. Now with your loving care and support, and just a few dollars a month, rescue cats like One-Eyed Jack get top-notch vet care, and room and board in a no-kill shelter. Maybe he will even find a forever home. Jesus, guys, tell me you know about these sob-story rackets that charities use?” 

“Surprised Steve would fall for that,” Chin murmured. 

“Surprised you’re snooping around in your boyfriend’s email,” Kono chided. 

“I’m not snooping. Back to my point, Steve donates to PETA because he’s got a soft spot for hard-luck rescue cats,” Danny shrugged. “I’m a detective. I don’t snoop. I detect.” 

“Really?” Kono mocked. 

“He got all choked up in front of his computer, and went and hid in the bathroom for half an hour. I was curious. He’s the one who left the email open. What?” Danny demanded of Chin, who looked like his last bite of macaroon had been flavored with cyanide and not vanilla.

“Oh,” Chin whispered sympathetically. “Like how much is Steve donating?” 

“An ungodly sum,” Danny assured him grimly. 

“Oh, man,” Chin sighed. “That’s so sad. That’s so….Steve….” 

“My point being,” Danny continued. “There has to be a reason why Yun Fei is donating money and time and efforts to terminal cancer patients, and to orphanages. Was he raised in an orphanage too? What’s the cancer connection?” 

“I’ll keep digging,” Kono promised. 

The security keypad came to life behind Danny, scaring him awake. He ate a coconut flake off his shirt, pulled himself straight, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Commander, as much as I can appreciate your impatience with Dr. Helldorfer, you are not allowed to bite the staff,” Dr. Fran was saying as the doors opened to her request.

“He was a dick,” Steve slurred happily. “He had it coming.” 

McGarrett paused for a second, and then let loose a mischievous giggle which rang through the hallway. 

“Aren’t you in a good mood?” Danny commented, walking alongside the bed that Dr. Fran was tugging with the help from two big techs. 

“Ohana!” Steve exclaimed. 

“Stay down,” Dr. Fran warned him the second his shoulders raised more than an inch off the mobile bed. 

“Yes, Nana.” 

“I was just explaining to the Commander that he is not allowed to bite the staff.”

“Bad Steve,” McGarrett whispered, shaking his head and frowning for a moment before his face lit up, and he gave another squirrely giggle. 

“What is he on?” Danny asked. 

“Pain killers and anti-anxiety medication,” Dr. Fran answered. 

“Can I get that to go? I’m thinking a set of tranquilizer darts would come in handy now and then when he gets out of hand in the field,” Danny pleaded. 

“I know you love him, but you should all go home for a few hours. Commander McGarrett needs to stay in bed, and he needs to sleep. He’s not going to get that if you’re here distracting him," Dr. Fran chided the team. 

“Danno, will you stay?” Steve wondered, a blissful smile wreathing his face. “Wheeeee….” he giggled as the techs whirled the bed around in a circle, and positioned him by the window. Kono cackled softly, putting a hand over her mouth and leaning against the wall. Chin was cracking up too. 

“The case,” Danny replied. 

“What case?” Steve asked, making ducky lips. 

“He’s in no condition to talk, is he?” Danny asked Dr. Fran, who snorted softly and shook her head no. 

“You’re gonna have to wait a few hours. He should be himself again by two or three this afternoon. Why don’t you go home, and get some sleep?” she suggested gently. “Don’t worry. The Commander is in good hands here.”

“How’s Dr. Helldorfer?” Chin asked. 

Dr. Fran’s smile quivered. 

“Luckily for Helldorfer, and for womankind, there wasn’t any actual detachment. But he is severely bruised. Not undeservedly so, if I understand the Commander correctly.”

“Will he be able to go forth and multiply?” Chin asked. 

“Only with a calculator,” Kono snickered gleefully. Chin struggled for a straight face. 

“Once the swelling goes down, he’ll be fine, if a little wiser about how he approaches certain patients,” Dr. Fran nodded.

“He’ll have a life-long fear of headjobs, but he’ll live, is that what you’re saying?” Danny murmured wickedly. Dr. Fran nodded briskly.

“Yes,” she wheezed. 

“Danno? Danno?” Steve said, tugging on Danny’s arm. 

“What?” Danny stretched out the word, bending down to stare into Steve’s spacey eyes. 

“I forgot,” Steve pouted, sinking back against the bed. 

Danny petted his hair affectionately. 

“Get some sleep, babe.”

"Did you bring me cookies? Coco Jo-Jo?" Steve asked, inhaling deeply. 

"Kono brought you cookies," Chin replied. 

"Oh! I can has cookie?" Steve asked hopefully. Kono was wiping away tears, her face round with laughter. 

"Can I record him?" Kono pleaded with her cousin,

"No," Chin chided. 

“Nothing by mouth for another six hours. Then only when we're sure he won't be nauseous," Dr. Fran cautioned. 

"No cookie yet, Boss. Sorry," Kono soothed. Steve pouted. "You want me to spin your bed around for you?" Kono asked. 

"Yes!" Steve exclaimed. Kono grabbed the hand rails, and took Steve around and around, slowly enough that she wasn't going to hurt him. He was squealing the whole time. Dr. Fran put out one orthopedic-clad foot, and Steve's joyride came to an end. 

"Could you please not do that, Officer Kono?" 

"Sorry," Kono blushed. Chin helped park the bed back in place. Danny was shaking his head at Kono. 

"Dr. Helldorfer will live. He’ll be back on duty by tomorrow,” Dr. Fran answered Danny’s question finally. 

“Good, because I’d like a chance to talk to Mr. Dickless about his bedside manner,” Danny smirked. 

“Can we talk?” Dr. Fran asked, pulling Danny into a private huddle. 

“Steve, look! You’ve got a visitor,” Kono smiled. 

McGarrett whirled his head left, right, left, before settling on the woman coming through the door. 

“Such pretty,” Steve cooed. The tall blonde stopped in her tracks when she found the room was packed with people. She looked frantic and surprised. The two big techs who had wheeled the bed around were leaving. They studied her up and down, but she barely noticed them. Dr. Fran was speaking privately with Danny, but Williams’ head jerked up when he heard the sound Steve made. 

“Can we help you?” Dr. Fran asked. Even Chin’s jaw was unhinged at the sight of the statuesque women in a lab coat, and blue scrubs, and white gloves. She pulled a face mask up over the lower part of her features. 

“I am here for blood?” she offered in a thick Russian accent, holding out a tourniquet, a vial, and a thin tape full of needles. 

“Help yourself,” Dr. Fran nodded. 

“Hello, nurse,” Steve purred as the blonde bent over his bed and examined one beefy bicep. She smiled at him as she stroked down into the crook of his arm. 

“Aren’t you very jolly?” the woman murmured in reply. She was not unamused. Danny was frowning unhappily. Chin was smiling, hoping to be noticed. Kono was watching Steve carefully. 

“Is that a Makarov 9-18 on your hip, or are you happy to see me?” Steve rambled. 

The blonde’s eyes got wide. She adjusted her coat, and put her foot up on the lower ramp of Steve’s bed. 

“Down, Tiger,” Danny chided Steve, caressing McGarrett’s closet leg. 

“You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,” McGarrett continued. 

“Oh, Boss,” Kono cackled. “You are in so much trouble,” she added, watching the color rise in Danny’s face. 

“Small prick,” the blonde woman warned. 

“Mmm,” Steve groaned softly, almost sensually, as he bit his bottom lip. Danny snatched up a pillow and settled it on Steve’s middle. McGarrett’s eyes flickered between Danny and the pretty blonde woman. 

“Guess we can answer at least one of Dr. Helldorfer’s questions,” Dr. Fran observed wryly. 

“Slutty Pants,” Danny murmured playfully in Steve’s ear. McGarrett was giggling again. 

“Danny, be careful. She is armed and dangerous,” he warned. 

“Yeah, babe. I noticed. You are not allowed to bite the staff, and you are not allowed to maul the nurses.” 

“She’s no nurse, Danno. She is a stone-cold killer.” 

The blonde woman tittered nervously, her hands fumbling at her task. 

“Aren’t you so funny?” she teased Steve playfully. 

“God, ma’am, I am so sorry,” Danny pleaded, putting a hand over Steve’s mouth. 

“Not at all,” the blonde replied, a smile touching her lips. “Is it true, what I hear?” 

“What’s that?”

“The Commander bit off his man doctor’s man parts?” 

“No actual detachment was involved. Just a lot of bruising,” Dr. Fran answered. “Are you about done there?”

“He is not giving me what I need,” the blonde complained. 

“You could always punch me in the face,” McGarrett whispered. 

"You'd like that, would you?" she tittered softly. 

“He might be a couple pints low already,” Danny murmured. 

“Should I come back later, and try again?” 

“Yes, please,” Steve purred. 

“No,” Danny pouted. 

“Let me lend a hand,” Dr. Fran said. “You’re kinda new at this, aren’t you? Elevate the head of the bed, and the patient’s arm. Gravity will help fill the vial.”

“Sorry, Doctor. Yes, I am very new at this,” the blonde admitted shamefully. The parts of her face which were visible were turning red. 

“Not at all. You’ll get the hang of it. All it takes is practice,” Dr. Fran assured her in a motherly tone. 

“Yes, ma’am. I practice more.” 

“Did Dr. Helldorfer send you?” 

“No, ma’am. Dr. Bergman?” 

“FSB, FSB, FSB,” Steve chanted. The blonde was turning green now. 

“Max sent you?” Chin questioned. Kono frowned too. They exchanged a look. Chin touched his cell phone. Kono’s phone rang. 

“Hello?” Kono asked, pulling out her phone, turning around, plugging her ear. 

“Sorry, ma’am. He’s not usually this much of a douche,” Danny promised. 

“Not at all,” the blonde said amiably, putting on a fake smile on her nervous face. The majority of her shaking grin wasn't visible because of her mask, but the tips of her mouth were poking up above the rim. 

“I can’t hear you. Let me get closer to the window,” Kono said as she moved around the bed and put her right side to the room. Chin adjusted the blinds, and morning sun filled the room. Dr. Fran handed the full vial to the blonde. 

"Here we go," she said. 

“Thank you for pointers, ma’am. I will be off now," the blonde gushed as she tucked the vial into her pocket with a loud clank. She adjusted her lab coat again.

“Pah-kah, golubka,” Steve mumbled, waving to her as she beat a hasty retreat.

“Just for that, I am sitting right here, and making sure you don’t tackle any other gorgeous blonde who comes through the door,” Danny chided him. 

“Danno?” Steve yawned. “No worries.” 

“Yeah, babe?” 

“You’re my favorite gorgeous blond,” Steve whispered sleepily. 

“I think that’s our cue,” Chin chuckled. Kono was fiddling with her phone. She tucked it into a pocket, and came away from the windows. She laced the protective necklace around Steve’s neck, and gave him a platonic peck on the cheek. 

“You behave, Boss.”

“Later, Steve,” Chin added, patting his shoulder. 

“Close the door,” Steve purred with a bounce of the eyebrows. Danny was laughing softly. Dr. Fran waggled a finger at both of them. 

“Detective, I highly recommend you wait until the Commander has a chance to heal before you try whatever Romeo has got in mind,” she advised them.

"Yes, ma'am," Danny agreed.


	8. Explanations and Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to praemonitus_praemunitus for correcting my terrible Russian! =)  
> Bolshoi spasibo

Steve didn’t wake up all at once. He came back to consciousness in waves. First he became aware the shore was close, but he couldn’t quite touch his feet to the ground. He continued to float in the warm, comfortable water. It was the perfect temperature, warmed from above by the glowing sun. He lazily stretched out his legs, and let the waves rock him slowly and gently. 

He eventually learned his toes could scrape the bottom if he let his legs dangle. He wasn’t ready to come to shore yet though. He let the sand tickle his toes. A phone was ringing somewhere close, and with that sound returned the memory of his responsibilities. There was a case to solve. People were dying. There was an assassin who needed questioning, once she was coherent enough to talk. 

Thinking the word ‘assassin’ made a blonde face waver into view. She had piercing blue eyes the color of a winter sky before a snowstorm, the kind of blue that can give you frostbite. Chyort! (Shit!) Frostbite? 

Steve inhaled as his brain processed the reality of what he had seen. That woman’s face had not been an illusion. Steve was frantic now. He needed to reach the shore, but he couldn’t push himself through the waves. Instead of floating, he was sinking under, pulled into the watery depths. He kicked with both legs, fighting to pull up to the light he could see and feel above. 

“Calm down, buddy. It’s all right. Steve? What’s the matter?” 

Danny’s voice filtered down to him, and he became even more desperate to get his attention, to make him understand. 

“Kill me….” 

“What?” Danny blanched. 

“Kill me…..” 

“Steve, calm down. It’s okay. You’re going to be all right,” Danny whispered in reply. 

“She’s here to kill me.” 

“What?” Danny stammered. “Who is?” 

Steve struggled to open his eyes, push the water and the sleep away. He wanted to sit up, but his stomach and abdomen protested heartily against the idea. There was someone pushing on both his shoulders. 

“Steve, calm down. You were dreaming. What the hell did you say?” 

“Shit! She’s here to kill me. Why aren’t you listening to me!? Danny! She’s a killer!”

McGarrett’s eyes were open now. Danny was frowning, blinking like a stunned bird who had hit a window, and needed a couple minutes to gather its senses.

“What are you babbling about? No one is here to kill you, except for Yu Lan, and she’s well and truly incapacitated, not to mention under armed guard, so you’ve got nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep. You were dreaming.” 

“Tall. Blonde. Much pretty. Russian,” Steve blurted. “Where did she go?” 

Danny stood up straight. 

“Chin, I’m putting you on speaker.” 

“Affirmative,” Chin answered through the phone Danny was holding up. “As I said, Max never sent anyone for a sample of Steve’s blood.” 

“I suspected as much,” Danny agreed grimly.

“Kono was able to get a picture or two of our visitor, and we ran what we got through the recognition software. The mask on the lower part of her face made it difficult to get a full shot, but Kono was able to match the eyes, the nose, the brow ridge to a profile.”

“And?” 

“Are you sitting down?” Chin worried.

“Her name is Oksana Morozova,” Kono piped up. 

“Frostbite,” Steve murmured. “Would you fucking listen to me for a change?” 

“Oh my god,” Danny paled. 

“Oh my god,” Steve beamed suddenly. “They sent Frostbite to kill me?” 

“What?” Chin asked. 

“You’re happy about this? Why is a Chinese drug lord sending a Russian assassin to kill you?” Danny was staring at Steve. Not for the first time, he was utterly perplexed by what was going through his partner’s mind. 

“Happy? No. But I am flattered. She wasn’t sent by a Chinese drug lord either.” 

“You know this lady, Boss?” Kono asked over Chin’s open line. 

“We’ve butted heads before during a couple of missions,” Steve answered sleepily as he rubbed his eyes. “Last time was in….oh, can’t tell you about that. Well, we also ran into each other in…..can’t tell you about that either. We were both in Algiers at the same time in….before….” Steve rambled.

“KGB?” Danny asked.

“FSB,” Steve corrected gently. 

“Why do they call her Frostbite, Boss?” Kono asked. Steve was fingering the corded necklace with shells which was around his neck. 

“Her method of assassination. She kidnaps her victims, transports them to an isolated area, and leaves them exposed to the elements. Sometimes she strips them, other times not. They die from the cold, if they’re lucky.” 

“Why do the Russians want you dead, Steve?” Danny asked. McGarrett smirked and shrugged. 

“Could be any number of reasons,” he replied with a hint of mischief and swagger. Danny wanted to punch him. 

“Why do they want you dead _this time_?” Danny amended the question. 

“I dunno. Frostbite, though, huh? Wow,” Steve was smiling.

“I hate to burst your happy bubble,” Chin interrupted. “But I don’t think she’s here to kill you, Steve.” 

“Why not?” Steve’s excitement fizzled away. 

“She left you ten voice mail messages on your office line,” Kono added. “Kind of eliminates the element of surprise when the assassin calls you first.” 

“What did the messages say?” Danny demanded. 

“I’d love to tell you, but I don’t speak Russian,” Kono replied. 

“Can you pipe them through the open link?” Danny requested. 

“Give me a second,” Kono sighed. “Wait for it. Wait for it. Okay.” 

Steve listened closely to Danny’s phone. Danny had one ear tuned to the phone, and kept both eyes on Steve. The messages played back to back. The men would listen to one message, and Steve would offer up a loose translation. It was the way his expression kept changing which puzzled Danny, from concern to mirth and back again. 

“ ‘Commander McGarrett, long time no see. Hope you’re doing well. This is Senior Lieutenant Morozova, in case you don’t recognize the voice. Please call me.’ She gives her telephone number. “

“Uh huh." Danny was not impressed or amused. 

“Senior Lieutenant? That’s…curious… It’s a police rank,” Steve pondered as he waited for the next message. “ ‘McGarrett, are you there? It’s very important. I’m in Paris’. No. She just left Paris. Again with the ‘please call’. Again with the phone number.”

“Yeah. Why would she call you if she was sent to kill you?” Danny muttered. Listening to a foreign language was a matter of parsing the words into syllables and sounds, waiting for your brain to recognize the fragments, then put the words together. You had to hope your brain could attach a definition to the full, to catalogue it away for further use. It was impossible on first hearing the words to understand them, but with time and repetition, pieces would begin to fall into place. At the moment it was all soupy in Danny's brain though.

“ ‘Steven, you aren’t angry about Okinawa, are you? Call me back’.” 

“What were you two doing in Japan?” Danny demanded, arms crossing over his chest. 

“We were tracking the same drug shipments. ‘McGarrett, please. This is very important. I am in Cleveland. The food is simply awful. I would kill for a decent blini’.”

“She’s headed this way?” Kono wondered. 

“ ‘Steven, this pouting of yours is very childish. You must call me at once’. She gives a new number. She's in Los Angeles.” 

“She’s getting impatient,” Chin chuckled. 

The next message made Steve’s eyes widen. Actually it made him gasp, and giggle, and round his mouth into a shocked O. 

“What did she say?” Danny wondered. 

“She maligned my questionable parentage, and threatened to shoot me in the balls if I don’t call her back,” Steve laughed, rubbing his chest because it hurt so much when he quaked. 

“Why are you laughing?” Danny wondered. The next message booted up.

“ ‘Shchenochek? I am so sorry. I have learned you were hurt at work. That is why you aren’t calling me. Forgive the last message. My apologies. I am on your pretty island now. Stay where you are. I will find you. Get well soon. Sorry I lost my temper with you, sladkiy shchenochek’.”

Steve stopped translating abruptly. Before the message ended, Morozova made another noise. Steve was blushing. 

“Why is a dangerous assassin blowing you kisses, Steven?” Danny demanded. Steve was bright red now, avoiding Danny’s question while giggling like a young schoolboy. Danny was swelling up with color too, not for the same reason. "Aw. Too bad. Since you’re currently incapacitated, Commander McGarrett, I’ll be happy to act as your intermediary with Ms. Frostbite,” Williams offered icily. 

Steve choked, and grabbed Danny’s hand. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he protested. 

“Let me put it this way then. As Acting Head of 5-O while you’re in the hospital, I will be your intermediary whether you like it or not, Big Boy.” 

“You’re pulling rank on me while I’m down? That’s low. Very low. Danny, are you jealous?” Steve was delighted at the thought. Danny sputtered denials.

“He sure sounds jealous,” Kono said. 

“Do you two need a couple minutes to talk about this in private?” Chin asked. 

“No, we don’t. Get Comrade Morozova on the phone, and patch her through to me,” Danny demanded. 

“Say please,” Chin baited. 

“Please,” Danny stretched out the word, taking the phone off speaker, and tucking it under his chin and ear. “You. What does ‘shchenochek’ mean?” 

“Don’t you wish you knew?” Steve taunted with a Cheshire cat grin. 

“Sorry, Other Boss, but it’s going straight to voice mail. Morozova is not picking up,” Chin reported. "I'll have to track her down for you."

“That will give you two plenty of time to fight this out before you talk to her,” Kono teased. 

“Hanging up now. Play nice, boys,” Chin said, disconnecting the call. Danny growled and threw his phone against the far wall, where it smashed into a thousand pieces. Steve was snorting and shaking in the bed. 

“Ow. Oh. Ow. Oh. Ouch. Danny, don’t make me laugh. It hurts to laugh.” 

“Steve? Where’s your phone?” 

“I don't know. Chinatown?” McGarrett offered. 

“Maybe it's with your personal effects. I’ll ask Dr. Fran.”

“Danny, me and Frostbite? Nothing happened between us. It was a bit of harmless flirtation, that’s all.” 

“She was blowing you kisses.” 

“She was being friendly.” 

Danny flashed narrowed eyes at Steve, but they didn’t have a chance to go any further into the issue. 

“Oh look. Lucky me. The happy couple.”

Danny wondered for two seconds who the sarcastic guy coming in through Steve’s door was, at least until he saw Steve tense up and heard him growl.

“You come any closer, and I will throw you through another wall, asshole,” McGarrett warned. 

“Dr. Helldorfer, I presume,” Danny purred. 

“You need to get your boyfriend a leash, Detective,” Helldorfer muttered.

“You better watch your mouth,” Steve warned. 

“You need something?” Danny asked, Jersey attitude rising to the fore. 

“I came to apologize,” Helldorfer admitted somewhat sheepishly. 

“Did you really?” Danny laughed. 

“Fuck you and your apology,” Steve growled. 

“I got my ass reamed by Dr. Weimer. I came to say that I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I’m sorry if you were upset.”

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed off. There’s a difference,” Steve growled deeper. 

“ ‘Kay. Whatever. I said my piece. It’s your turn.” 

“Turn for what?” 

“You get to apologize for biting me.” 

“How about I just bite you again?” Steve snarled, getting halfway up before Danny laced an arm around him and eased him back down. 

“Commander, you can either apologize, or I will sue you and your department for everything you are worth,” Helldorfer snapped. 

“Take your best shot, dickhead,” Steve laughed. 

“BOYS!”

Helldorfer recoiled as the shout went up behind him. Dr. Fran stormed in, arms full of folders, which she pitched down on the end of Steve’s bed. 

“This is not how you apologize to a patient, Dr. Helldorfer,” she scolded, tapping a pencil from one hand to the palm of another. 

“He’s an ass.” 

“You’re being a bigger ass.”

“He bit me! Why should I apologize?” 

“Because you were being insensitive and callous, and you were lucky he wasn’t armed with anything more dangerous than his mouth.” 

“I apologized. He refused to accept.” 

“Give it another try.” 

“You are not my mother.” 

“But I am your supervisor, and I’m an inch from putting you on report. Dr. Helldorfer, suck it up, put on your big boy pants, and apologize like you mean it.” 

“Commander McGarrett, I apologize if my manner and method offended you.”

“There. Was that so hard? Your turn, Sailor Boy.” 

“You gonna put me on report?” Steve taunted. 

“No, but I will put a warning on your hospital record, and you’ll be camping out in the psych ward for the rest of your stay,” Dr. Fran warned, pointing the pencil at him. McGarrett curled up like an under-baked cookie. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For….” Dr. Fran urged. 

“For being a danger to society?” Helldorfer mocked. 

“For failing to save the world from future baby Helldorfers?” Steve added maliciously, flashing sharp teeth at the other doctor. 

Dr. Fran’s head dropped, and she sighed impatiently. 

“There are days I wish I had joined that commune in Idaho,” she said. “Dr. Helldorfer, go check on your other patients,” she ordered, pointing towards the door. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Helldorfer pouted on his way out the door. 

“Detective Williams, would you step outside for a moment? I need to have a word with the Commander in private.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Danny answered, following Helldorfer into the hallway. He tugged the door closed, and hurried to block the doctor’s exit. “Hey, smart ass?” 

“What do you want, Detective Boyfriend?” Helldorfer rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, looking in the other direction. He was acting like Grace when she was mad with her father. 

“You got a problem?” 

“Yeah. I got a problem with getting savaged by a patient, and being expected to apologize.” 

“You were an ass.” 

“You maybe oughta get him a shock collar for his next birthday.” 

“You were cavalier about a patient’s injuries, and you acted improperly towards him in front of a witness.”

“I wasn’t acting improperly. I am a doctor. I needed to check his response to physical stimulation. How many times do I have to explain?” 

“You put your hand on his dick in front of his sister. That’s not appropriate.” 

“He was pissed at me long before that. Your boyfriend has got serious anger management issues. You know it. I know it. The whole goddamned state knows it. Why is this my fault?” 

“They give you sensitivity training in med school, or did you skip that class? Let me explain this slowly, so it’ll sink it. You were putting the moves on a patient’s sister, and you were mocking him about his injuries. Very personal injuries. Don’t make me get more specific. I’m not going to. But if you continue to upset him like this, I'll bite off whatever's left of you.”

“Of course you’re not going to see anyone else’s side of this.” 

“Next time, introduce yourself. Explain why you’re there. Explain what you’re doing and why. Explain why you need to touch him, and where you plan to touch him, before you put your hands in his clothes. Have you never dealt with traumatized patients?” 

“Traumatized?! He’s the one who attacked me! Twice! I’m the one who was traumatized!” 

“Helldorfer, you keep pointing that finger in my face, and I’m going to take you to a whole new level of traumatized,” Danny warned. 

“Just let your fuck-buddy know that if he has any further complications, he can talk to a different urologist.”

“Fuck-buddy?” Danny laughed. 

Williams was smiling for a half a second before he flared up to twice his size, spitting and hissing like an angry ginger tomcat as he lashed out. Everything went red. There was a good deal of screaming, not all of it in English. There was kicking and biting and snarling. The door banged open and closed. Twice. Again. A big body and strong arms latched onto Williams, pulling him backwards. Danny’s fists were clenched around fabric, fingers getting poked by sharp corners and angles. Chest decorations? He was tasting blood in his mouth. He was fighting to get his arms through the solid door as Helldorfer fled, tumbling down the steps in his hurry to get away. 

The strong arms released him. Danny landed flat on the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs. He pulled himself up to his feet and stormed back and forth, muttering obscenities, tugging at his hair until it stood on end. The taste of blood disappeared when he swallowed. 

Someone tittered, stopped, and tittered again. Boots clomped on the tile floor. A hand rubbed his shoulder, and there was a gentle feminine voice in his ear. 

“Let him go, Besyonok.”

Danny spun around, fists raised until it registered who was standing there. The tall, blonde bombshell was back, except this time, she was in her police uniform, chest covered with commendations. She was wearing black boots which accentuated her long legs and figure. All she lacked was a whip and a mask to fit right into a couple of his more perverted fantasies. He gulped and wrestled himself back to polite civility. 

“Detective Danny Williams,” he said, sticking a hand at her, unclenching his other fist.

“Lieutenant Oksana Morozova,” she replied, offering her hand as well. “What does it mean? ‘Fuck-buddy’?” 

Danny whimpered, his smile quivering. 

“It would take too long to explain.” 

“Suit yourself, Besyonok. Is McGarrett awake and coherent? I desperately need to speak with him, if he is.” 

“Right this way,” Danny admitted defeat.

"Spasibo," she replied. His shoulders sank even further.


	9. We Can Work Together

“I dunno, Frosty. I can’t decide which disguise I like better. The scrubs were awesome. Nice boots though. Hella sexy,” Steve grinned boyishly as Morozova hung around the side of his bed, pacing back and forth in place. She was antsy and anxious. 

“You are disgusting pervert, Shchenochek. This is not a disguise.”

“Explains why you didn’t know the proper procedure for drawing blood,” Dr. Fran chided as she gathered up her folders. “I’ll be next door. Commander, stay in bed. On your back. Horizontal. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve nodded. 

“Doctor, I apologize for the earlier subterfuge, but it was necessary to scope out the territory before making my move. The Commander must understand, of course? You yourself have engaged in disguises now and then.”

"From time to time," Steve admitted sheepishly. 

“Apology accepted. I clearly need to speak to the head of security though,” Dr. Fran rambled on the way out the door. 

“How long have you two been acquainted?” Danny asked carefully. Morozova stopped pacing, tilting her head as she thought about it. 

“A decade. Maybe two decades. My word. Okinawa, Algiers, Afghanistan, Iraq, oh, and then there was the beautiful disaster in Barcelona. Jakarta? You bastard. Oh, but we cannot forget Stockholm. Mmm mm mm. Good times.” Morozova ticked off locations like Rand McNally, while Steve turned green and then pale. Danny watched Steve, and smiled faintly. 

“Damn, you have a big mouth,” Steve cursed. 

“That was a long time ago, a different Morozova. I had to give up the life of a traveling vagabond.” 

“Mercenary assassin,” Steve interjected. 

“Professional military consultant. No. That was a long time ago. I have settled down. Changed careers, somewhat.” 

“You work for the police?” Danny asked. 

“I find I am suited for little else. I miss the hunt if I am away too long. Senior Lieutenant Morozova. Men my age, with my military background, they are twice my rank, but you take what you can get. I relocated to Moskva to make Mami happy. Dima found me this job. He is good to me. I may yet marry him. Would you like to see my babies?” she beamed, digging for her phone. 

“Sure,” Steve nodded. 

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Here they are. Handsome boys, aren't they?” 

Danny sneaked a peek sideways, and did a double take. It was a picture of two striped tabby kittens. 

“That one is Misha. This one is Sasha. I rescued them on one of our raids. They were crying and crying. I picked them up. Put them in my pockets. My babies. I miss them. I want to get home to them soon,” Morozova sighed. Steve held the phone, studying the picture carefully. 

“You living with your mother?” 

“What gave it away?” 

“The gigantic cross and triptych in the background?” 

“I cannot afford apartment of my own. Dima says I can live with him, but no, Mami does not approve. No daughter of hers is going to live in sin without marriage. Who are you to talk? Who was the blonde at your house?”

“You went to my house? You talked to Mary? She’s my sister!”

“Sister? I thought as much. You have the same eyes. She’s so spunky. I like her. I woke her up. I apologized, asked which hospital you were in. Told her we worked together in the military.”

“What?!” Steve crowed loudly, having to hold his chest with both hands.

“This is not untrue. I didn’t think it needed mentioning we were on opposite side then, most of the time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, who had your back in Stockholm when your own guys were ready to sell you down the river for a piece of that shipment and enough money to get the heck out of Dodge?” Steve protested. 

“Such a nice boy. Good dog,” Morozova laughed. “I see you have gone legitimate too? Working for the police? Mr. Bad Ass all over Ha’vaii.” 

“It pays the bills.”

“You enjoy it. Do not lie. You must have very good medical coverage,” she laughed. 

“What brings you to Hawaii, Frosty? You need my help?” Steve asked, eyes twinkling in a way that made Danny pout. 

“Your injuries. I saw your file. You were attacked, and drugged by your assailant. The same thing happen for Dima.” 

“Dima? Dmitri Reznikov?”

"Yes. The same." 

"You're sleeping with Reznikov? He's old enough to be your....much older brother," Steve frowned. 

“Bite your tongue. We are not sleeping together. We occasionally have sex. I do not spend the night at his house. Mami would not approve. You remember Dima, do you? He will be very flattered,” she beamed. 

“Remember him? It’s hard to forget a guy who sticks a Makarov in your kidneys, and makes you drive twenty miles into the desert.” 

“Don’t be a crybaby. You’d’ve done the same to him if the tables were turned.” 

“I would not have taken his clothes.” 

“That was my idea.”

“Because you like seeing men naked?” 

“Why are you whining? You survived.” 

“I survived because I was lucky enough to be rescued by a British convoy a day later.” 

“Oh, sob, sob, sob. You like the heat. You were born in the tropics.” 

“I was red as a lobster.”

Morozova was puzzled for a second. Then she watched Steve’s hands, how he was making little pinchers with his fingers, imitating claws. 

“Lobster. The sea creature. Oh, sob, sob, sob. You sold me to Japanese drug lord, you prick.”

“I got a great price too,” Steve laughed. “How’d that turn out? How'd you escape?” 

“I killed him, and two of his body guards. How do you think it turned out?” Morozova pouted. 

“Why are you complaining? You managed to stymy my every investigation in Okinawa, set back my operations by a year."

"You insulted me. I had to punish you."

"So how is Dima?” Danny interrupted, struggling to hide his annoyance with their friendly chatter.

“He is pissing and moaning, laid up in the hospital. Not a happy man. He and I have been working this case for weeks and weeks. A new drug is appearing all over Moskva. Stupid teens are dying by the dozens. It’s worse than Krokodil. You can’t keep these idiot kids off the shit. We tracked the shipments coming in by footpad. No. Courier?” 

“Yeah, us too here,” Danny nodded. 

“You see? We can help each other. Dima and I were tracking foot traffic with our team. Many of them young recruits not much older than the kids dying. And it bothers me. I tell Dima. Why? Why? Where is this shit coming from? We get samples, leftovers, dust off the victims we have found. Our coroner, he tests the samples. Tells us it’s a designer concoction.”

“But who spends the money making a designer concoction, only to sell it to kids and street people?” Danny interjected. 

“Precisely that!” Morozova exclaimed. “Where is the money? You do not do this without money. You do not do this unless you make money. Am I right?” 

“You’re right," Danny laughed. 

"I see how it works. You are the brains. He is the muscle. Am I right?" Morozova chuckled, patting Danny's shoulder. 

"You’re both right, about the case anyhow. Danno’s been saying the same thing,” Steve agreed, reaching over and taking his hand fondly. “I didn’t make introductions. I’m sorry.”

“Is okay. We met in the hallway. He is a cute, tiny firecracker, isn’t he?” Morozova chuckled. “He was beating up the other doctor. Shchenochek? What does it mean? ‘Fuck-buddy’?”

“You were beating up Helldorfer? Did you need a boost for that?” Steve teased gently. 

“I got a running jump, and climbed his shins. Shut the fuck up,” Danny growled, patting Steve’s cheeks a bit roughly. “I was defending your honor.” 

“See? That’s what I love about you, Danno.”

Danny forgot for a moment that anyone else was in the room as Steve pulled him down close enough to peck him on the lips. 

“Thanks,” McGarrett purred. 

“You’re welcome,” Danny grinned. 

“Yum yum. AB positive. You’re bleeding. Did he punch you in the face?” 

“I think I bit my tongue,” Danny laughed at himself. 

"Kiss it better?" Steve offered. 

“ ‘Fuck-buddy’. I get it,” Morozova said finally, laughing softly. “Hold the kisses for the meantime. We have work. I need help. You need help, Steven. You and Dima both are flat on your asses until your doctors say otherwise. Me and the Little Imp. We can be buddy-buddy partners. Kick this case in the ass. Then I can get home to my babies. How does that sound?” 

“Was Dima attacked too?” Steve asked. 

“He was attacked, and he was drugged. He injured two of our own who were trying to get him to a doctor. Having flashbacks about his wife and daughter. It was horrible. I was there. He was screaming their names, crying like a baby. I have never in my life seen Dima cry like that.” 

“I can relate,” Danny nodded. Steve looked mortified for a moment. 

“Did Dima get a look at his assailant?” Steve asked. 

“You have someone in custody?” Morozova hoped. 

“Downstairs in the security wing,” Danny nodded. 

“Yu Lan is downstairs?!” Steve exclaimed frantically.

“I need to know when she wakes up, so I can question her. And I want to be here with you, make sure you’re okay. You think I’m going to put her across town so I have to drive back and forth?” Danny laughed. “Relax, babe. She’s not going to get out of bed, and come finish you off.” 

“May I meet this dangerous creature?” Morozova perked up. 

“Where are you going?” Danny huffed at McGarrett. 

“To finish Yu Lan off first,” Steve growled, swinging a leg over the side of the bed. That’s as far as he got. Danny was holding onto his arms, and Morozova caught his other leg.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Danny chided. “You are going to stay put. Right here.”

“Put your ass back on the sheets, Shchenochek.”

“We got this, Steve. Just be calm.”

“Calm? The person who tried to kill me is sleeping three floors away!” 

“Yu Lan is staying right where she is. Unless she can knock three guards unconscious while handcuffed to the bed, and can walk through walls, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m not worried. She’s the one who needs to be worried!” Steve growled. 

“I would not be concerned about the pint-sized blade-dancer. I would be more concerned about her master, the dream weaver,” Morozova cautioned. “She is the puppet. He pulls the strings. If you take her out, another puppet takes her place. If you take him out, there is no one to give orders.”

“Let’s work together on this,” Danny nodded. 

“Him, or the case?” Morozova smiled broadly. 

“Him first. Then the case.”

“You had me at hello, Besyonok,” she purred. “Do you have reinforcements you may call in? Because the minute we leave this room, Shchenochek will be out of the bed, tracking his prey on all fours, tail stiff, fangs bared.” 

“Shchenochek?” 

“Puppy dog.” 

“Doggie? She’s calling you ‘doggie’?” Danny teased Steve, who was in no mood. Probably because he had one person on his chest, and one person holding his legs, and maybe this wasn’t the most embarrassing moment of his life, but it was close one. 

“Maybe we call his sister? Get her to come sit on him?” 

“Great idea. Except my phone had a tiny accident.” 

“Okay. Give me number. I place call. You got him?” 

“I got him,” Danny assured her. The second Morozova let go of Steve’s legs, McGarrett twisted his body around with a shout of pain, planting Danny on the bed on the pillows, and sitting up on his chest. “Steve? Are you trying to kill yourself? Get off me!” 

“Boys, there is no time for romance. Break it up. What is sister’s number?”

“Gimme the damn phone,” Steve demanded. 

“So touchy,” Morozova teased, giving Steve the phone and pulling him slowly backwards off of Danny’s chest. 

“I’m not pushing you off, only because I don’t want to hurt you,” Danny insisted. 

“Mary, I need you to spring me out of here, now,” Steve said the second the call picked. 

“Hello, and how are you, Jerk Face?” Mary snapped in reply. Danny snatched the phone away. 

“Mary, hey, Danny, hi.”

“What do you two want?” 

“Can you come sit on your brother for a little while?” 

“Can I actually sit on him?” 

“It’s negotiable,” Danny agreed. 

“I’ll be there in ten,” Mary promised. 

“Bring some board games.” 

“Right……” 

“Thanks,” Danny said as he handed Morozova her phone, and maneuvered Steve back down on the bed. 

“Pozhaluysta.” 

“Steven, you will stay in bed. You will play Monopoly with your sister. You will behave,” Williams ordered. Getting Steve to lie down was like playing Whack-A-Mole at the arcade when he was a kid. Danny would get one limb situated when another would pop up, and so on. 

“Should we ask the nice doctor for a tranquilizer?” Morozova suggested.


	10. Things That Go Bump in the Night

“042-35-4935.”

“What’s he saying?” Mary whispered. 

“Not sure,” Dr. Fran answered. 

“042-35-4925.”

“Social security number?” Dr. Fran speculated. 

“Well, that can’t be good,” Mary grimaced. “What did you give him? One second we were talking, and the next second, zonk.” 

“I gave him a mild sedative to make him sleep.”

“Steve? What’s the matter?” Mary asked loudly. Steve’s eyes were half-lidded, and he was twitching more than he was resting. 

“I’m concerned he’s having an adverse reaction to the medication,” Dr. Fran fretted. “Commander? Can you hear me?” 

“042-35-4935,” Steve mumbled, shivering, pushing back at the arms which sought to pull him level at the head of the bed, to rest him on the pillow on his back rather than curled into a ball on his side. 

“Do you know if your brother has any allergies?” 

“You mean aside from expressing his emotions and repealing the Second Amendment? Not that I know of,” Mary mused. “Maybe you didn’t give him enough to knock him out completely?” 

“I don’t want to risk giving him any more of the sedative if he is having an adverse reaction.”

Dr. Fran held Steve’s wrist in her fingertips, testing his pulse while watching the second hand on her wrist watch. Mary moved from the foot of the bed to the head of the bed, tenderly touching Steve’s wild hair. 

“Big lug,” she whispered, bending down to kiss his forehead. “Why is it the only time you let me mother you is when you’re unconscious?” 

“...Don’t know where he is…. can’t tell you…. what I don’t know… what I don’t …I…. AHHHHHHHH!”

Steve screamed out, and wrestled around wildly. He shook off Dr. Fran’s grip, swinging both arms. Dr. Fran dodged down, and Mary grabbed one beefy limb, tucking it back down on the bed. 

“Calm down! We’re trying to help!” Mary shouted at him. 

“Wo Fat…” Steve grimaced and growled. He was squeezing his right hand over and over. Dr. Fran took the hand into her own, and Steve flailed in response to being touched, shouting angrily in an Asian language neither Mary nor Dr. Fran recognized.

“We can either wake him up or knock him out further.” 

“How do we wake him up? Throw a bucket of water in his face?” Mary worried, ducking another swinging fist. 

“Given your brother’s history of repetitive, traumatic incarcerations, I don’t believe that would be the best approach.” 

Mary stopped short, let go of Steve’s arm, and almost fell over. 

“What?” she breathed. 

“He’s been water boarded at least once that I know of, maybe more than that,” Dr. Fran murmured. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn.” 

“No. I…I knew….I…just…” Mary stammered, concern flooding her features. “Big lug,” she whispered again. “Steve?! Steven!? Listen to me!” she shouted, getting over his face, tapping him in the cheek. Steve’s eyes fluttered and flickered towards her. 

“Mary? Run! Run! Why are you here!?” McGarrett babbled deliriously. “Get out! I’ll hold them off!” 

“Listen to me! There is no they! You’re in the hospital. You’re in Hawaii! You’re home. You’re safe. Are you hearing me?” 

“Have to get you…out of here…. have to…. Freddie can get you out… take you back… Freddie?! Where’s Freddie? I’ve lost Freddie. Have to find him… have to… have to…” 

“Is that your phone ringing?” Dr. Fran asked, readying another syringe.

“I thought you weren’t going to give him any more,” Mary worried. 

“It’s either knock him out now, or stitch him up again later when he’s done thrashing and kicking about,” Dr. Fran replied. “This is a muscle relaxant. Not a sedative. Commander? Can you hear me?” 

“042-35-4925. Freddie, oh god, Freddie, what have they done to you?” Steve sobbed. 

“What the hell do you want?!” Mary growled into the phone, holding it to her shoulder as Steve frantically thrashed in the bed.

“I’ll kill you all for what you’ve done!” McGarrett was snarling in his sleep. “Let go of me! No, no, umm…mmmmnph.” 

Dr. Fran pulled the needle away, petting Steve’s arm as she tucked it under the covers. 

“Don’t make me get the restraints,” she whispered. Steve moaned unhappily, biting his mouth, grunting and fighting to keep from going under. 

“What did you say?” Mary bawled into the phone. 

The line was quiet for a second, until Danny timidly asked his question again. 

“How…how’s he doing?”

“Danno….” Steve mumbled. 

“Not well,” Mary admitted. 

“Dnnnn…”

“How’s the case?” Mary wondered. 

Danny’s response was drowned out by another echoing scream. 

“Jesus, Mary. Do you want me to come back?” Danny gulped. 

“No, no. We got him,” Mary lied. “It’s all good.” 

Danny remained unconvinced, even more so when Steve shouted his name and started whimpering. 

“Gotta go now. Uh huh. Bye,” Mary blurted before disconnecting the call. 

Danny sat blinking into nothing, holding the edge of his borrowed phone (Steve’s phone) to his lips. 

“You all right?” 

Danny trembled at the unfamiliar cadence of the question, shaking his head. 

“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just doesn’t feel right being out here when I should be back there, with Steve, looking after him. Guarding him while he’s out of it. You know?” 

“I am surprised the military has not sent someone to sit by his side, to silence him if he says too much while he is under,” Morozova commented, eyes peering through a scope. Her gaze was trained on the warehouse ahead – ostensibly the import/export distributor who handled Yun Fei’s pharmaceuticals when they first arrived in Hawaii. 

“They don’t really do that, do they?” Danny bluffed, hiding his uncertainty. Morozova lowered the binoculars for a moment. 

“Don’t they?” she wondered. 

“Lieutenant?”

“Please. Call me Shoosha.” 

Danny’s brow furrowed. 

“Shoosha,” he tried out the word carefully. 

“I am Shoosha. You are Danno.”

“Danny.” 

“Oh? I do not get to call you 'Danno'. That is a tender name between you and Doggie only?” 

“Actually my daughter calls me 'Danno', and Steve kinda latched onto it, mostly to annoy me in the beginning.” 

“Does it work?” 

“To this very day,” Danny laughed. 

“Shoosha. Danny. Danny. Shoosha.” 

“Okay, Shoosha. Why doesn’t Steve call you that?” 

“Only my friends call me Shoosha.” 

“Steve isn’t your friend?” Danny gulped. 

“We are acquainted. We are not friends. We can work together. Confidentially, he is not my type,” she replied, shifting her legs. Her boots struck the metal box in the floor board. She frowned into the floorboard, kicking it again. 

“Oh,” Danny breathed. 

“You look like surprised guppy,” Morozova mused as she peered into binoculars again. “We watch the shipments come. We watch the shipments go. We watch more come in. Mr. Dreamweaver. He ships many many drugs.”

“But these here are all on the up and up.”

“Up and up?” 

“On the level.” 

“How can they be up and on the level both?” 

“It means they’re legal.” 

“Please resist the urge to use idiomatic phrases. What the devil is in this box?” she asked, kicking it again. 

“Your English is really good,” Danny praised. “Oh. That. That’s one of Steve’s toy boxes. He brought it along for the Chinatown surveillance the other night. I kinda forgot it was in there. You can chuck it over into the backseat.” 

“Thank you. I will. Boys and their toys. I will put it under my purse. It will not bite my shins again. Okay. Yes. I have good English. Better than your Russian,” she grinned. 

“I’ll give you that.” 

“My English is good, but it would not do for us to speak at cross purposes. We need to be able to understand each other in the heat of the moment.” 

“Uh huh,” Danny squeaked as Morozova casually set a hand on his knee. 

“Maybe I teach you a few phrases in Russian? Get you in touch with yourself?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You have some Russian in you. I can see it in your face,” Morozova said, peering closely, getting into his personal space. “Grandmother. Grandfather. How far back, I do not know. But that nose? That lovely nose,” she purred, dotting a tiny kiss on the very tip. 

Danny jolted back, popping his skull on the drivers’ door window. 

“Sorry. What is the matter? You do not like girls? You prefer burly men, like Doggie?” 

“I….Bi…” Danny mumbled, blinking at her in surprise. 

“Biseksualnyi? That makes more sense. You said you have a daughter.”

“Yes. Married. Divorced. Taken,” Danny said, his throat suddenly very dry. “Ma’am. Lieutenant. Shoosha? I’m taken. Sorry.” 

“I apologize. Am I being too forward? I forget myself. Perhaps I am lonely. You remind me of my Dima.”

“Dima,” Danny nodded. “He’d be mad if you were unfaithful, wouldn’t he? Doesn’t sound like the kind of guy you’d want to cheat on. Someone who leaves people naked in the desert.” 

“We have an understanding, Dima and I. He pretends he doesn’t mind that every man in our department has asked for my phone number. I pretend I don’t mind that he’s sleeping with Boreznikova from Traffic Violations. It’s disgusting. They are practically cousins,” Morozova chuckled. “Relax. I promise not to molest you against your will. That really is not my style.”

“You’re…. you’re probably not used to guys saying no to you?”

“It does not happen often.” 

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re a beautiful woman.” 

“Beauty is a curse all its own, Danny. I would trade anything for a forgettable face.” 

“I bet you wouldn’t.” 

“This face is not conducive to undercover work.”

“You mean as a police officer?” 

“Of course,” she lied. “You walk into a room, and you blend in. You are handsome, those pretty eyes, but you can make yourself one of the crowd. I walk in a room, men drop their drinks, and women make cat eyes at me, and wish me dead.” 

“It can’t be as bad as all that.” 

“Yes, it can,” she assured him grimly. “So what are we going to do?” 

“About what?” Danny squeaked, dodging her wicked smile. 

“About our friend, Mr. Dreamweaver.”

“We go back to the office. We get a warrant to search the warehouse. Hope to hell we find a hidden stash of illegal shipments that are coming in alongside the legal ones we’ve found so far in the first two searches,” Danny suggested. 

“Search warrant? That will take time. We don’t have time.” 

There was something eerily familiar about Morozova’s attitude. 

“Babe, we need a search warrant, or we don’t go inside.” 

“You need evidence to procure a search warrant, do you not?” 

“We do.”

“Dr. Bergman, he has not yet found a connection between the Cloud 9 drug, and the other pharmaceuticals that Mr. Dreamweaver makes.”

“Not yet. How did you know to use Max’s name when you first entered Steve’s room as a blood nurse?” 

“Phlebotomist.”

“Phlebotomist.”

“He has been corresponding in online fandom chat rooms with a friend of mine from Cybercrimes.” 

“Prevention or Perpetration?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Nothing. Go on,” Danny grinned teasingly. 

“Dr. Bergman was my back door in case the Commander did not wish to work with me.”

“You were going to soften Max up to get information about our case?” Danny gasped. 

“ ‘Soften Max up’?” Morozova puzzled, then purred slowly, languidly. “No. Rather the opposite, I had hoped.” 

“Ugh,” Danny groaned. “Thank you so so much for the mental image of my co-worker with wood.”

“Wood?” 

“You were going to get him hard, and pump him for information. Oh, oh no. That’s even worse! Stop!” Danny pleaded, rubbing his eyes. 

“Sorry to distress your delicate constitution. Why does this bother you? Darling, I enter the right room, in the right dress, and I always get a twenty-one-gun salute,” Morozova chuckled.

“Well, it did work on Steve, anyway,” Danny admitted. “Promise me something, Shoosha.” 

“What’s that?” 

“You’ve taken Steve prisoner before, haven’t you?” 

“Now and again,” she shrugged. “He seems to have a fetish for restraints.” 

“You’ve never… I mean, you wouldn’t be the sort to harm him,” Danny stammered, unable to complete the thought. 

“Are you asking me if I’ve tortured him? No. That is not my cup of tea, Besyonok. I’d rather not touch my prisoners whatsoever.” 

“Oh. That’s good.” 

“I know what it’s like too, what gives him unquiet dreams,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I would not wish that on my worst enemy. I will admit, I did punch him in the mouth once. But he was asking for it.” 

“Don’t feel bad. I’ve punched him in the mouth too,” Danny commiserated. “The first day we met. He was being such a prick!” 

“My god, yes! So stubborn. Like a mule with its feet in cement.” 

“Ah. The Steve we know and love.” 

“Yes, indeed,” Morozova laughed. “Okay, Danny. You are going to call your office? Ask for your search warrant?”

“Now you’re talking, Shoosha. Hey. Hey, hey! Where are you going?” 

“I am not accustomed to all this sitting around. I need to stretch. I need to pee. You get the search warrant. I will find a place to dip in and, how does one say it? Powder my nose?” 

“All right, all right. Just don’t wander too far away,” Danny warned, distracted by his thumb on the phone pad. 

“No peeking,” Morozova chided, tittering as she walked backwards away from the car, carrying an object behind her back with one arm. Her purse? Odd that it had perfectly square sides. He glanced up, back, up, back, and she was gone, like a ghost in the darkness. 

“Hello? This is Detective Danny Williams, Five-O Task Force. I need to see if Judge Learner is available. I want to email over a request for a search warrant?” 

“You do know it’s two a.m., Detective Williams?” 

“I know what time it is.”

“Hold please. I’ll check if I can wake Judge Learner.” 

“Holding,” Danny agreed. The worst sort of cheesy 70’s music was being piped over the phone line at first. Danny groaned, and decided that if Steve were here, he would have been dancing in his seat, butt wiggling side to side, arms waving around. The disco inferno dance-a-thon gave way to a jazzy, pleasant, standing bass being thumbed, and hands clapping in the background. A trumpet sang out. 

“Never know how much I love you. Never know how much I care. When you put your arms around me, I get a fever that is hard to bear. You give me fever....” 

The music crashed through a crescendo, and Danny found himself swaying back and forth, fingers tapping the steering wheel happily. He began to wonder what had become of the receptionist, and the judge, and of Morozova for that matter. He needed some water. Suddenly so thirsty. Were there any bottles left in the back seat? He was fumbling around in the backseat floorboard for a bottle when the receptionist came back on. 

“Detective Williams?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m here,” he replied. 

Danny's breath caught in his throat. A glimmer lit the darkness in a distant window of the warehouse. Danny stopped searching for a bottle of water, and he dropped the soft fabric that his fingers were caressing. He hadn't found any water, but he had found Morozova's purse. He had not found Steve's toy box however, and his brain quickly put together a logical conclusion. Morozova had left the car with Steve's metal toy box behind her back. 

Flames were licking the bricks, rising, rising, rising. 

Was that gunfire?! 

“I’ll call you back,” Danny blurted, dropping the phone in his lap as he reached for the wheel with both hands, slamming one foot on the gas and the other foot on the brake. The wheels were squealing, and the back of the car was hopping sideways. An unseen door burst off its hinges practically right in front of the Camaro. A tall blonde in a Russian uniform came racing out at top speed. 

“Punch it!” Morozova bellowed, arms pumping, boots pounding the pavement. She ran with the mechanical grace of a speeding freight train. Danny felt like he was parked on tracks, stuck in a railroad crossing, and she was about to plow into him. He really wished her face wasn't locked in that peculiar, gleeful grin. 

Three smaller forms were fanned across the open doorway, guns blazing. Metallic pings were striking the Camaro as Morozova got a boot up on the fender, and flung herself to the other side. She barely had the door open and a leg inside before Danny was free-wheeling away at top speed with just about enough clearance between the brick walls on either side. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Morozova chanted in warning, panting and laughing, eyes aglow as she stared backwards through the rear window. Really glowing. Like, lit by actual flames, glowing.

The side of the warehouse went up with a blinding flash. The initial, sideways blast inspired a series of smaller blasts which threw the top of the building skyward, like the top coming off a mountain during a volcanic explosion. Danny choked on a scream, and pushed his precious baby into overdrive, visions of pyroclastic flow in his mind's eye. 

Flaming bricks and shards of glass pelted them as they emerged from the alleyway onto a larger road. Danny pulled hard, and the car swerved sharply left. They raced along, bobbing and bumping, until Danny could convince himself to ease back on the gas. Morozova’s laughter filled the car. 

“Did you get that search warrant?” she asked sweetly, batting those big lashes at him. 

Danny threw his hands in the air and sputtered syllables, unable to manage a single word in any language.

"Don't think you'll need it now," Morozova cackled. "You're welcome," she added, patting him on the knee. Danny studied the cracks in the windshield as they rolled to a bumpy squeaky stop under a street light. 

The only sound in the car was his heavy panting, and her dialing her phone. 

"911? Fire, please. I should like to report an explosion. Big. Very big. Chinatown. Hurry, ma'am, everything went kaboom."

Danny leaned his face into the steering wheel and begged all the Fates to spring Steve out of the hospital sooner rather than later. 


	11. Alcohol.  Tobacco.  Firearms.

“Let’s go over this one more time,” the ATF agent said, pushing his trench coat to the side and putting a foot up on the stoop where Danny was sitting. Williams was wrapped against the chill, wearing one of Steve’s big sweaters from the trunk of the Camaro. 

Lieutenant Morozova was standing to one side. She petted Danny’s shoulder when the detective gave a soft whimper of distress. The tow truck was pulling his Camaro up onto the flat bed, and as the chains were pulled taut, the front axle snapped in half. The heavily-damaged car slid sideways, narrowly managing to stay on the flat bed. 

“Does the Commander have a vehicle we may borrow?” she asked quietly. Danny rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, feeling the pain clear through his heart. 

“We were on surveillance when the explosion occurred,” Danny said, clearing his throat, standing up. The ATF agent stepped slightly back to allow him room to stretch. 

“Why were you surveilling in this location?” 

“The owner of warehouse is a person of interest in our case," Morozova answered.

“Why are you here? What’s your name again?”

“Senior Lieutenant Oksana Morozova. I am with the City of Moscow Police.”

“You’re from Idaho?” 

Morozova frowned and looked to Danny for help. 

“Moscow. The capital of Russia,” Danny murmured slowly. The ATF agent’s eyes went wide. 

“Why would Moscow send a police lieutenant to Hawaii? I need to see some ID, lady." 

Morozova produced her badge, and gave it to the young man for inspection.

“We're working a case together which bridges both jurisdictions," Danny explained. 

“I help Danny. Danny helps me.”

“I’m going to need to speak with your superior officer.” 

“Captain Dmitri Reznikov. He is currently in the hospital. I can give you his number, but I beg you, do not call him.”

“Why not?” 

“He is hot to trot.” 

“What?” 

“Easy to make angry?" she puzzled to Danny.

“He’s hot-tempered.” 

“Thank you. He is hot-tempered. He did not wish to send me. He wanted to send someone else. He does not think I can handle this case, this job, because I am a girl.” 

“Are you really?” the agent barked sarcastically. 

“Do not be fresh with me, cupcake. I am in no mood. You call my boss, and tell him I was a witness to massive disaster explosion, what do you think he is going to conclude?” 

“The same thing I am inches from concluding. What a coincidence that two law enforcement officers happen to be on surveillance when the main warehouse of one of the largest pharmaceutical distributors in Hawaii happens to go up in a million pieces, and yet the two of you managed to see……not a goddamn thing?”

“You don’t believe in coincidences?” Danny gulped. 

“What were you doing when the building went up?”

“I was tinkling,” Morozova shrugged one shoulder and managed a very believable blush. 

“Tinkling?” 

“I have to pee. We were on surveillance long time.” 

“Where were you 'tinkling'?” 

“You wish to watch? You cannot imagine that an officer of the law might have to obey the laws of nature too?” 

“I need to have an idea where you could have been which would have prevented you from seeing what was going on."

“I stepped into the warehouse through an unlocked side entrance. I would show you, but there seems to be much of a building in our way, yes?” Morozova gestured. 

“What you were doing, Detective Williams?” 

“I was on the phone, trying to get a search warrant.” 

“Search warrant for what?” 

“For the warehouse, Agent.”

“Okay. You were parked smack dab in front of the warehouse, on the phone, looking at the building, and yet you saw nothing either?” 

“I saw flames in an upper window.” 

“Left or right?” 

“Mine or yours?” 

“From the front of the building?” 

“Upper right.” 

“I have witnesses who tell me they saw a woman in a military uniform running across the main floor and out of the front of the building right before the explosion happened.” 

“I told you I was in the building. Of course I was running! I was in the stall when I heard the breaking of windows, most likely caused by the heat of the fire that Danny witnesses from outside. I do not linger when danger is near. That is how I survived fifteen years in the service, young man.”

“So you were inside the building?"

"Yes!"

"And you were right outside the building?" 

"Yeah." 

"You were conducting surveillance of this building, and yet you managed to see…. not a goddamn thing?” the agent barked, reading from his notes again. 

“I do not like your tone, young man. Perhaps it I who should be speaking to your superior officer?” Morozova rumbled. It was amazing how menacing she could be. Danny took hold of her sleeve, tugging her out of the face of the ATF agent. 

“Down, girl,” Williams murmured. 

“I’m going to need to talk to your superior officer too, Detective,” the ATF agent demanded. He flipped to a clean page in his notebook, and waited. 

“Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett. He’s in the hospital at Queens Medical.”

“Really?” the ATF agent closed his notebook, crossed his arms, and glared at the both of them. “Another amazing coincidence.”

“They both have been injured working on this case, which is why Danny and I team up, so we are safer,” Morozova explained. “Why is this such a mysterious concept for you? People working together towards a common goal.”

“I don’t like your attitude, Lieutenant Morozova.” 

“I don’t like yours either, cupcake,” she replied, getting in his face again. 

“I’m going to need to talk to you both later, so don’t leave town,” the agent warned. Morozova sighed heavily in annoyance. 

“Of course we are not leaving the town. The case is not yet finished.”

“You’re free to go, for now,” the ATF agent growled, stuffing his notebook in his trench coat pocket as he walked away towards the groups of agents milling around the crime scene. Morozova waited until he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear her. 

“Besyonok, what does it mean? ATF?” 

“Alcohol. Tobacco. Firearms.” 

“Sounds like a party to me,” she joked. Danny narrowed his eyes at her and fought not to smile. 

“They get called for cases involving explosions of a suspicious nature.” 

“Suspicious?” Morozova tutted, pursing her lips. “Define suspicious.” 

“Don't even bother. But you get to explain to Steve what happened to his toys,” Danny mumbled, putting a hand on her elbow and walking her towards the nearest street. 

“You think Agent Cupcake will call Dima and Doggie?” 

“He’ll have to call them. No doubt about it.” 

“Chyort.”

“Problem?” 

“Dima will be mad.” 

“He’ll be concerned.”

“He will be furious.” 

“Why?” Danny asked, senses prickling. Morozova’s bottom lip quivered. She heaved for breath, fought with herself, and finally blurted words. 

“I left without permission."

"What?"

"I left against his wishes." 

“Ah, fuck me,” Danny whined, leaning face first against the bricks and pounding one fist against the wall. 

“Request, command, or plea?” Morozova rumbled, teasing a finger up his spine. Danny whirled around, pushing the hand away.

“Explicative.”

“Oh. Pity.” 

“You said you were sent here to work with Steve on this case.” 

“Dima wanted to send someone else. I convinced this person to let me go instead.” 

“And when Dima finds out you switched places with this other person?” 

“He will pitch a bitch.” 

“Okay. Let’s go talk to Steve. Tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do.”

“Look on the bright side,” Morozova offered as Danny whistled and waved and hailed a taxi. 

“There’s a bright side?” 

“The insides are outside, and the ATF people, they are combing over this warehouse with fine teeth.” 

Danny couldn’t help but smile. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

“We will know the entire contents within a few days, yes? No questions. They have to let us see their reports, do they not?” 

“Maybe. I know a guy,” Danny nodded. “Queens Medical,” he requested of the taxi driver. The kid didn’t even notice Danny climbing in the back seat. He only had eyes for Morozova, who was climbing in the front seat. 

“Hello, pretty boy,” she beamed. 

“Hey,” the kid stammered. 

“Aren’t you precious? Does your mami know you are picking up strangers and taking them all over the islands?” 

“Yeah,” the kid stammered. 

"How old are you?" 

"Twenty-one. Your accent. It's so sexy. Where are you from?"

"You should be asking where we want to go, yes?" 

“Queens Medical,” Danny repeated, stuffing a twenty at the driver. 

“I may watch you drive? Learn my way around the city?” Morozova asked. 

“Su….sure….yeah,” the kid beamed. 

“Automatic or manual?” 

“Automatic.”

“R N D D3 D2 D1,” Morozova called off, stroking a finger over the gearshift in a suggestive manner, then down the kid’s arm. They jolted into motion, and Danny snapped on a seatbelt.


	12. Trench Coat

There was a man in a trench coat in Steve’s hospital room when Danny and Morozova arrived. There was also a young girl in a school uniform. She was standing beside the bed, giving pointers on the video game she was teaching Steve to play. Danny couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw them together -- his two favorite people. 

“Danno!” Steve exclaimed in unison with Grace. 

Danny’s daughter squealed happily from the far side of the bed. She bounced up and over, earning a grunt of pain from the SEAL. 

“Sorry, Uncle Steve,” she winced, petting his arm as she put her stocking feet down on the floor. 

“No problem, keiki,” Steve groaned, putting on a thin smile for her benefit. 

Grace threw a hug around Danny’s chest. He squeezed her earnestly in reply. Not so long ago, when Gracie hugged him, she would grab him around the waist. Not so long before that, she had only been able to reach up to his knees. When she was able to hug him around the shoulders, he was going to officially be an old geezer, he decided quietly. 

“Who are you?” Grace demanded as she spotted Morozova. Her happy face shifted to uneasy dislike. 

“Hello,” Morozova offered a friendly greeting. 

“This is my daughter, Grace Williams,” Danny explained. “Grace, this is Lieutenant Oksana Morozova. She’ll be working with Uncle Steve and me for a few days.” 

“Hello,” Grace whispered begrudgingly. 

“We are coordinating on a case,” Danny continued, hoping to soften up his daughter’s narrowed eyes. 

“What a pretty child,” Morozova said to Danny. 

“Gets her looks from her mother, thank goodness. Make nice, Monkey,” Danny whispered to Grace. “Steve! How are you?” 

“Hey,” Steve smiled at them before turning his attention back to Trench Coat. It was not the same man from the alleyway, but Danny was sure it was another ATF agent. Trench Coat gave Danny and Morozova a very dismissive glance over one shoulder, lowering his voice even further as he spoke with Steve. 

“You saw the news reports about the blast on TV?” the agent asked. 

“Yeah. That's some serious shit. If you’re going to do it right, make a building go up like that, you’ve got to put the explosives in the right places. You know? Support columns, load-bearing walls. You wanna bring it down without hurting anyone. But you want to make sure it’s all down. That blast was not the work of a professional. Damn sloppy job. You want the debris to fall inward. You don’t want that shit raining down on houses and cars blocks and blocks away.”

“You sure about that, are you, Commander?” the agent grinned at Steve, jotting down notes feverishly. 

Grace tugged on Danny’s arm, and as every parent knows, that’s a child’s way of saying they want to tell you something they don’t want anyone else to overhear. His daughter studied Morozova with jealous eyes, and tugged on Danny’s arm again. He bent down into a private conversation with her. 

“He’s baked,” she warned. 

“What?”

“Uncle Steve. He’s totally baked,” Grace grimaced. 

Danny snorted, ran a hand over his mouth, and straightened up for a moment. He was not going to laugh. He was not going to laugh! 

“Baked? What does it mean?” Morozova asked. Danny hushed her with a pat on the shoulder, and spoke to Grace again.

“Monkey, Uncle Steve was in a lot of pain, and he wasn’t getting any rest. Dr. Fran had to give him a very strong medication.” 

“He is so not himself,” Grace complained. 

“I know, sweetie.”

“He's got a real potty mouth." 

"I know, sweetie," Danny nodded. 

"He keeps giggling, and he ate like twenty cookies,” she whispered. “I had to hide the rest of them under the bed where he can’t reach.” 

“Where did Mary go?” 

“Uncle Steve’s sister? She went outside for a few minutes. She looked like she’d been crying.” 

“Do you know where she went?” 

“You can see her from the window,” Grace pointed. “She’s smoking in the parking garage, talking on the phone.” 

“Did Mommy drop you off to visit Uncle Steve? That’s really very nice of her,” Danny smiled, ready to think nice things about his ex for a change.

“Are you kidding me?” Grace countered, looking so much like Rachel that it hurt. “Mom doesn’t know I’m here, and you are not allowed to tell her.” 

“How did you get here?” Danny wondered, letting the nice thoughts about Rachel evaporate. 

“I’m working on an Aloha Girl badge. Care and comfort for sick people.”

Danny smiled right through the sneaking suspicion that his precious baby daughter was bull-shitting him like a trained professional. 

“That’s great, sweetie. But how did you get here?” Danny asked again. 

“I rode the bus from the mall.” 

“You took public transit? By yourself?” Danny paled. 

“Well duh,” Grace replied flippantly. Danny didn’t appreciate her tone, but he did appreciate that she wasn’t completely helpless. He couldn't help but feel damned proud about it, in fact. 

“How did you ditch Mom’s driver?” he wondered. 

“I do it all the time. He’s too busy on the phone with his girlfriend or his BFF. I have to leave in about ten minutes to catch a bus to get back over there though,” she said, darting a glance down at his watch. 

“I’ll drive you. Put on your shoes. Get your things together,” Danny said, patting her shoulder. 

“But, Danno, the game?” Steve complained. Danny gave him a stern glance. 

“You are supposed to be resting.” 

“I am resting,” McGarrett protested, motioning to the bed, scooting down under his covers further. 

Grace gathered up her bag and her school books, and folded down the empty cookie boxes, putting them in her backpack to recycle later. She stepped back into her loafers, and bumped fists with Steve, who smiled happily at her. 

“Mahalos, keiki. A hui hou.” 

“Behave, Uncle Steve. Stay in bed,” she scolded, waggling a finger at him. 

“I will,” he whispered furtively.

“You were wandering up and down the hall when I got here.”

“I was reconnoitering the perimeter,” Steve insisted. 

“Don’t worry. I won't tell Danno about the ninja in the closet.” 

“Thanks,” Steve added, avoiding Danny’s inquiring stare. 

Trench Coat dodged left and right, and tapped his pencil impatiently on his notebook as Grace pushed her way right through him.

“So like I was saying, Commander McGarrett, we found remnants of a metal ammo box near the initial blast point. I’m following up on the serial numbers. Your people were questioned at the scene by Agent Curtis.”

“Why?” Steve asked simply. His eyebrows dipped in the middle above his nose. He was attempting to pay attention, bless him. 

"They were questioned because they were at the scene," Trench Coat answered. 

Steve's eyes immediately wandered to Danny and back again. 

“You know? I have metal ammo boxes,” McGarrett added brightly. 

“You do?” Trench Coat grinned. Danny and Morozova both panicked. Luckily, the agent was not in a position to see their faces. 

“Shit, yeah. I got like fifty of ‘em,” Steve replied. 

“Do you keep an inventory?” 

“Hell yeah. Each one is packed for a specific type of job.” 

“Can I see the list?” 

“Sure thing,” Steve beamed. 

“Are you missing any ammo boxes, Commander?” Trench Coat wondered innocently. Danny knew where this was leading. Did Steve know, in his compromised state of mind? 

“Fuck, I don’t know. I’ve been in here for an eternity. All kinds of shit could be missing from my house. The garage door doesn’t lock.”

“What?” 

“At my house. The garage door doesn’t lock. You can swing that puppy up and down, up and down….” Steve demonstrated with hand gestures. “My dad's car got stolen last year. I should have fixed the lock by now. I know, I know.” 

“Do you have a supplier? A place on the island where you buy your ammo boxes?” 

“Oh yeah, oh yeah. Danno can show you. Yep?”

“Yep,” Danny agreed amiably while at the same time, his temper and his nerves were flaring up. “Agent? What’s your name?” 

“Boucher.” 

Danny tugged on Trench Coat's sleeve, and pulled him a couple steps away from the bed to talk. 

“Agent Boucher, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but should you be questioning a man who is high on pain medication?”

“I am not high,” Steve protested. 

“Yes, you are,” Grace called from the doorway. 

“Shut it,” Danny growled to both of them.

“I am relaxed,” Steve continued.

“Commander McGarrett has an air-tight alibi. There are several witnesses who can place him here, at the hospital. He’s too incapacitated to have committed this crime,” Danny pressed, head moving, hands flailing. 

“He doesn’t think I did it, Danno,” Steve explained slowly as he shook his head. “He thinks you two did it. You and Frosty.” 

“Steve?” Danny whispered between his teeth. 

“What?” Steve whispered back. 

“Will you let me handle this, babe?” 

“Sure,” Steve answered, zipping up his mouth metaphorically. 

“Like I was saying," Danny growled. 

“Like he was saying,” Trench Coat countered. “You two are my prime suspects. According to Agent Curtis, you two were at the scene when the event took place. Neither of you has a credible alibi. Your alleged statements don’t pass the sniff test. The 911 dispatcher even said, and I quote, the lady who called had a thick Russian accent.”

“Would we blow up a building, and then call 911 about it?” Danny protested. 

“Arsonists and bombers call in their own jobs all the time,” Trench Coat replied. “It’s part of the personality. They like to inject themselves into the investigation, and they also like to get up close and personal with the damage they have caused. It feeds their ego. It gets them off sexually.” 

“We are both officers of the law,” Danny protested even more. 

“Yeah, and it would totally be a first for me, if a disgruntled firefighter, or an ex-military adrenalin junkie, or an angry ex-cop, if someone like that were to be my perp. Yeah. I would be so totally shocked,” Trench Coat muttered sarcastically. 

“Get to know your suspects before making rash decisions, Boucher. Explosions are not really Danny’s thing. He doesn’t like loud noises. He shakes like a frightened Chihuahua if a car backfires down the street,” Steve interjected with a blithe smile. “Frosty, she kills people, but heavy ordnance and Symtec isn’t her usual MO. There weren’t any casualties at the warehouse explosion. It’s all property damage. No dead people. How many people work the night shift there? That takes planning – making sure all your people get out alive in a massive explosion like this. Maybe you ought to be investigating whether the owner of the premises is after insurance money, or trying to divert attention away from the fact he’s the person of interest in 5-O’s case. Maybe he blew up his own building to destroy evidence? Your guys been combing the place over, right? I’m gonna have to subpoena your reports, because they might be material to our investigation. Hope you understand.”

Morozova, Danny, and Agent Boucher all three stared at Steve with the same surprised expression. For several seconds, he had not sounded at all medicated, but serious, and matter of fact. Steve shriveled down under their intense stares. His mouth fell into an unhappy frown. He was pouting as he clicked the video game back on, maneuvering the blue car around the track, dodging exploding mushrooms and other cars. 

“Don’t mind me. What the hell would I know? I’m a total idiot. Stupid people,” he muttered to himself. 

Danny thumped him in the back of the head with one palm to get him to shut up. 

“Detective Williams, if you can access a list of Commander McGarrett’s metal ammo boxes, I’ll be happy to check those serial numbers against that of the ammo box remnants found at the scene. If the numbers don’t match, you two have got nothing to worry about,” Agent Boucher smiled fiendishly. 

“Yup,” Danny murmured, petting Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck. Steve knocked the hand away and squirmed out of reach. 

“What does he mean, you kill people?” Agent Boucher wondered. 

Morozova cackled nervously, hands wringing together. She was wearing a wide, shark-like smile. 

“He has no idea what he is saying.” 

“Whatever, lady. Not my department. Agent Curtis has your information. Like he said, don’t leave town.” 

“I am not leaving town. The case is not finished,” Morozova growled emphatically. 

“Drive safely,” Danny grumbled. As Trench Coat left, Grace peered back around the doorway, eyes pleading with Danny. “Steve, I gotta run Grace home. You all right here?” 

“Fuck off, brah,” Steve rumbled. 

“Watch your mouth in front of Gracie. And what did I do to deserve a ‘fuck off’ from you?” Danny wondered, not unamused. 

“Give Boucher the list on the desktop. It’s in the folder marked ‘Boom’.” 

“Okay. See you in the few,” Danny mused. "Can I borrow your truck?" 

"It's in the parking garage. You're gonna have to wrestle Mary for the keys though." 

"Nah. I'll use my own," Danny smirked. He wanted to plant a kiss on Steve as an apology for hushing him, but McGarrett was giving him very cranky side-eye, so he thought better of it. “Keep tabs on him until I'm back?” Danny pleaded with Morozova.

“No problem. I got him.”

“You don’t have to stay. Go get some sleep. I'm fine. Mary will be back soon. She went outside for a smoke. I’m fine,” Steve pouted, digging a heel into the bed and maneuvering into a seated position.

“You don’t want me to stay?” Morozova asked. 

“Nope.” 

“What about the ninja in the closet?” Morozova asked. 

Steve snorted. “I broke the inside handle and locked the door shut. He is not getting out, not through that door anyways. I don’t need a babysitter. You can fuck off too.” 

Danny stopped in his tracks, whirling back around. His already-ruffled hair was rising on the back of his neck. 

“Steve? Is someone actually in the closet?” 

“Well duh,” Grace and Steve said in unison.

Morozova and Danny exchanged a quick glance. She pulled her gun. He pushed Grace back out into the hallway and closed the door. 

“Steve, stay down,” Danny warned, approaching the closet in tandem with Morozova. They counted down together – three, two, one. She had her weapon trained on the darkness, arms out stiff. Danny grabbed the handle, twisted the lock, then the knob, and pulled hard. 

Dust mots were floating in the small space as the door swung open. Danny shined a flashlight into the emptiness, and turned back to Steve. McGarrett had both feet on the floor, but was slouching down, as if sitting up hurt like heck in spite of the medication in his system. 

“Did you get a good look at the ninja?” Danny wondered. 

“He was leaning over my bed when I woke up. Yeah. I got a really good look at him.” 

“Where was Mary?” 

“She stepped out for a smoke.” 

“Can you describe the alleged ninja?” 

“Nimble, thin, dressed all in black. Mask over his face. Almond-shaped brown eyes.” 

Danny pushed aside the empty hangers swaying on the rod in the closet. 

“Steve, there’s no one here,” he promised. 

“Of course not. He climbed out already,” McGarrett shrugged. Danny closed the closet door and asked the obvious question.

“You sure you weren’t dreaming?”

Steve stared at Danny. Danny stared back. Steve arched one brow sarcastically, and went back to his video game. 

“Steve, I am taking Gracie home. Then I’m coming back. You good with Mary until I return?” 

“Yup,” Steve pouted. “Hey, Frosty? Have you checked in with Dima yet?” 

Morozova winced, and fingered her phone. 

“I need some sleep before I deal with Dima,” Morozova said, still holding her Makarov in her grip. “He has called four times already. May I crash your pad, Doggie?” 

“Sure. Help yourself. My keys are down there,” Steve motioned to the small table against the far wall. Morozova grabbed the keys, and left her gun on the bed in Steve’s grip. 

“Here. In case of more ninjas.” 

Steve set down the controller, and tested the grip of the unfamiliar gun. 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Danny worried. 

“Promise you will not shoot the mean doctor, no?” Morozova insisted, dropping a hand on Steve’s shoulder. 

“I promise. No shooting Helldorfer. You got any more clips?” McGarrett asked. She dropped several more clips into his grip from a pocket, and followed Danny into the hallway. 

"See you in a few," Danny promised loudly. 

"Whatever," Steve called back. 

“He’s hallucinating, you know. There aren’t any ninjas,” Danny whispered to Morozova as he punched the security code into the keypad. “This floor is sealed. You don’t get in or out unless you know Dr. Fran’s passcode. This door here. That door down there,” he pointed to the far end of the hallway. “There is no way anyone got in here. He was hallucinating. Or dreaming. Or imagining. But I’m telling you. There was no bloody ninja.” 

“Better safe than sorry,” Morozova whispered back. 

“Did you see the ninja, Monkey?” Danny asked Grace. 

“No,” the youngster answered truthfully. 

“There you go,” Danny insisted. 

Morozova shrugged sleepily, and closed the hallway door. They waited for the security measures to reengage before heading down the stairwell.


	13. Security Blanket

“I’m sure he was imagining things. He’s on some very heavy shit,” Danny explained in a soft voice as he tapped in Dr. Fran’s passcode and entered the restricted floor. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“But to reassure Commander McGarrett, and to keep him from wandering up and down the hallway, reconnoitering the perimeter….” 

Danny let the sentence go unfinished, but the HPD officer understood his intentions. 

“Yes, sir.” 

They met Mary in the hallway. She was upset, wide awake, and holding an unlit cigarette. 

“You can’t smoke in here,” Danny scolded. 

“Not smoking,” Mary growled as she gestured at him with the unlit end. 

Together, Danny and Mary peered into Steve’s room. The SEAL was balled up asleep at the raised head of the bed, with Morozova’s Makarov clutched in his hand like a teddy bear or a security blanket. 

“Was the gun your idea?” Mary hissed. 

“No,” Danny defended helplessly. 

“We need to talk, Danny. I mean really talk,” Mary blurted the words like they were clawing to get out of her chest. 

“Talk, then. Nobody’s stopping you,” Danny urged. 

“I’m too mad. I can’t right now. But you and me, we’re gonna talk,” she warned. 

“Where do you want me, sir?” the officer asked. 

“You don’t have to sit in the room with him. Walk up and down the hallway. Keep an eye on the both doors. Pay attention for any unusual movement. He’s the only patient in this wing at the moment, which is why Dr. Fran is letting him have the run of the place. But keep an eye out, will ya?” Danny pleaded. 

“Sure thing, Detective Williams,” the officer said. He stretched out his arms, cracked his knuckles loudly, and began to saunter to the end of the hallway. Uncontested King of the Jungle! Presumably he wanted to learn the lay of the land. Or maybe he wanted to peruse his territory. As he went past Mary, she slouched against the wall, and gave him a moody stare. 

“There was no ninja,” Mary muttered as Danny stood beside her, and plucked the cigarette from her hand. She snatched it back, and put it away in the pack in her purse. Her purple lighter fell and hit the floor. Danny resisted the urge to kick it out of reach. Mary collected it and put it away. 

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Danny scolded gently. 

“I only smoke when I’m upset.” 

“Why are you upset?” Danny resisted the urge to add ‘at me’, because he had a feeling that he was the object of her anger because he was the person standing here, and she needed to vent more than she was actually angry at him personally for anything he had done. He hoped.

“I said, I don’t want to talk now. I’m too upset. But we’re going to talk.” 

“Okay,” Danny agreed grimly. “How do you know there was no ninja? You were outside, weren’t you?” 

“There’s no smoking inside.”

“How long were you gone?” 

“Ten minutes.”

“Assuming for a moment that Steve was not hallucinating, the question is how the alleged ninja got onto a restricted floor without the passcode. Did you wait for the security measures to reengage before you left?” 

“Yes,” Mary insisted. 

Danny prowled back to the door, tapped in the code, and popped the portal open. He knelt down and examined the lock and latch mechanism. There were no signs of any damage. No scratches or pry marks. No sign that the lock had been unscrewed and refitted. He ran his fingertips and thumb up and down and around the latch. Mary leaned closer and closer, until she was almost able to put her chin on Danny’s shoulder. 

“What is it?” she asked. 

“It’s sticky,” he frowned. 

“Was it oiled recently?” 

“Oil would be slick,” Danny muttered. He sat down on the floor, one foot on either side of the door, holding it open so he could examine it a bit longer. He leaned back on his hands, locked his elbows, and glared at the door. 

“I’ll go check out the other one,” Mary offered. It took her a few moments to pad down the hallway, gliding past Steve’s door on sock feet to keep him from hearing her steps. She left her tennis shoes by his open door, and continued on. 

A sliver of silver thread caught Danny’s eye as he flicked the latch a couple times. He got up on his knees, and lifted the thread from inside where it had been pushed by the angled piece of the lock itself. 

“Duct tape?” Williams wondered. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Steve’s phone, actually. Danny put the device to his cheek, holding the silver thread between two fingers and testing the stickiness that remained. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Jersey. It’s me.” 

Danny lifted his head to catch Mary’s eye at the other end of the hallway. 

“I know how the ninja got in.” 

“How’s that, Smart Ass?” 

“When you open one door, both locks unlock,” she answered. 

Danny was on his feet like a shot. 

“What?” he gulped. 

“You have the door unlocked right now, right?” 

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“This one is unlocked too.”

To prove her point, Mary hung up the phone, and opened and closed the door at her end of the hallway. Danny face-palmed, holding his breath to keep himself from cursing loudly. He put the phone in his trouser pocket, and closed his door. 

Mary kept opening and closing her door. Danny tested his knob. Sure as shit. His door opened without protest. The detective let the door close and lock. Mary closed her door too. It took a couple moments for the security measures to reengage. Danny waited. Punched in the code. Pulled his door open. Mary opened her door again too, motioning with her hands like Vanna White. Danny closed his door, leaned against it, and muttered obscenities to himself. Mary pulled her door closed tight, and met Danny at Steve’s room. 

“Not only do the doors unlock in unison, but when you input the passcode at your end, I saw it in living color on the keypad at the other end,” Mary whispered. 

“Fuck me,” Danny growled. “Who designed this Mickey Mouse piece of shit?” 

The guard was walking in and out of the rooms. He popped into another empty suite as Danny and Mary watched him.

“You think there might be flaws in the design?” Mary murmured sarcastically. 

“Fuck a duck,” Danny replied. 

“Should we tell Steve?” 

“No,” Danny decided. “He’s already paranoid enough.” 

“All someone would have to do is wait for someone to open this door, turn the handle on the other door, and wait until the person at this door went into their office or room. Once the coast was clear, they could walk right in,” Mary deduced. 

“Or stand outside the other door, wait for someone to input the code at this end, and read it on the pad at their end. But how is someone at the second door supposed to know when the first door is going to open?” Danny asked after a small pause. 

“Dr. Fran keeps very regular working hours. She’s like clockwork. On Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, she works daylight hours. On Friday and Saturday, she works the nighttime hours,” Mary said. 

“She was here on Thursday too,” Danny pointed out. 

“Not a regular work day for her. I think she was checking on Steve, and her other patients too. But mostly Steve.” 

“That’s really nice actually.” 

“She must have a soft spot for big lugs. Besides that, I saw the schedule for all the department heads and supervisory doctors posted downstairs at the front desk in the main lobby. You can see it when you stop to talk to the information lady.”

“You think our alleged ninja walked right in through the front door? Then slipped into a bathroom and got dressed in all black?” 

“Stranger things have happened.” 

“I can’t argue with that,” Danny agreed. 

“What’s on your hand?” Mary asked as Danny touched his thumb and forefinger together several times. 

“Someone used duct tape to keep the lock open on the door over there. Any sign of duct tape on your side?” 

“No. It wasn’t sticky or oily. The door at that far end doesn’t get as much use as the door closest to Dr. Fran’s office,” Mary replied.

The guard walked in and out across the threshold of the room two doors down from Steve’s room. He bent down to look at the floor from knee-level. 

“What do you got?” Danny whispered. 

“Footprints in the dust on the floor,” the guard explained quickly. 

Danny got down on his haunches, and flashed a light over the floor. There were two sets of prints, all the same size. One set led from one side of the room, across the floor, and up the near wall, the one which adjoined with the next room. It took Danny’s brain a second or two to process what he was seeing. Someone had gotten a running start, walked up the wall, and stopped at the ceiling. 

Williams shook his head. It couldn’t be! He followed the prints again, across the floor from one side to the other, and up the wall. At the ceiling level, the first ugly foam tile was slightly ajar. Mary was having the same reaction he had had to the evidence before them.

“No way,” Mary protested. 

The second set of prints crossed over the first set, making them a bit harder to interpret. Danny aimed his light across the entire ceiling. The tiles were all perfectly square in the space where they were supposed to be, except for the one over the bed. There were two perfect footprints in the middle of the blanket, and another set of prints coming to the doorway. An eerie shiver spun up and down the detective’s spine. 

“You’d have to be very light to be able to crawl through a drop-ceiling and not bring it crashing down,” Mary observed. 

“Uh huh,” Danny grunted. He thought about how small Yu Lan’s frame was.

“Those feet are even smaller than mine,” Mary added. 

“What size shoe do you wear?” Danny asked, thinking maybe, just maybe, he should be putting more guards on Yu Lan downstairs in the security wing. 

“Six.” 

Danny had the phone out again, dialing with one thumb. He tucked it against his cheek, and waited. It wasn’t long before someone picked up. 

“Chyort. Morozova,” the lieutenant mumbled sleepily. 

“Hey there. It’s Danny.” 

“Besyonok, do you know what time it is?” 

“Frosty, how did you get onto Steve’s floor when you came for the blood sample?” 

“I used passcode.” 

“Who gave you the passcode?” Danny wondered. 

“I did research on nice doctor. She has son, grandson, daughter, and she is very devoted mother person. Four-digit code means birthday before October. Month plus day plus two-digit year. Daughter was born on April Fool’s Day. Son was born in mid-December. It was simple elimination. I input daughter’s birthdate. Yahtzee. I am in.” 

“You didn’t use duct tape?” 

“No.” 

“Which door did you use?” 

“The one closest to nice doctor’s office. May we continue this interrogation in the morning when I am awake?” 

“Sure. Sorry.” 

“No. Is okay. Danny?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell Steve he has sweet kitty.” 

“Steve doesn’t have a cat.” 

“But there is very big dilute torti sleeping on his bed.”

“You’re sleeping on Steve’s bed?” Danny blanched. 

“I like it. It is big and soft. My feet do not hang over the edge. Guest room was occupied by sister’s things. Other room is fitted for little girl. If this is not Steve’s cat, who is purring by my side?” 

“That’s Meatball. He lives across the street.” 

“Okay. Tell Steve also that I fix his door for him.” 

“What door?” 

“Garage door. I fix it for him. Tell him he owes me a screw,” Morozova laughed softly. 

“Not sure he’ll appreciate the humor,” Danny frowned. 

“You sound grumpy. Get some sleep,” she advised. 

“Will do. How do I say ‘see you tomorrow’?”

“You just did,” Morozova snorted, hanging up. 

“Hmm,” Danny hummed, putting away the phone again. 

“So?” Mary asked. 

“Morozova didn’t use duct tape. She used the passcode, worked it out by doing research on Dr. Weimer.” 

“Do ninjas carry duct tape?” 

“Do I look like a master of the art of stealth to you?”

“Now who you calling?” Mary wondered. 

“I need a team up here to fix this security system. I want Steve to feel safe.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Mary snorted unhappily. She was putting on her shoes, and digging through her purse for her cigarettes. 

“You said you wanted to talk?” Danny pressed, holding the phone against his chest for a moment. 

“Not now,” Mary muttered. 

“You can’t smoke inside,” the guard informed her. 

“I know I can’t smoke inside!” Mary shouted. Her shoulders rounded as she immediately cringed. “Sorry,” she whispered a second later. 

“Don’t bother whispering,” Steve grumbled deeply from the bed. He dropped his feet to the floor, and sat up with much effort. “Like a fucking herd of fucking elephants in fucking taps shoes.”

Danny snickered softly as Steve ran both hands through his hair, thumping his skull with the Makarov.

“Sorry, babe,” he called out. 

“Fuck you,” Steve replied crossly. He laid back down on his side, glaring at them with red eyes, gun clutched tightly in his grip. "Mar, you gotta stop smoking. It's gonna kill you. The fuck, huh?"

"Just be glad it's only cigarettes," Mary snarled back. She gathered up her purse and her dignity, and headed out through the door closet to Dr. Fran's office.

“Where do you want me?” the guard asked. 

“In the hallway. Keep an eye on both doors,” Danny ordered him. He pulled himself up to his full height, and entered Steve’s room.


	14. The Offer Stands

“I thought you were coming right back,” Steve whined. 

“Sorry. I took Grace home. Got into a heated discussion with Rachel about her driver being on the phone instead of keeping an eye on my daughter. Went back by the office to look over notes and evidence. By the way, what the hell happened to the blade?" 

"What blade?" Steve blanched. 

"The shank Yu Lan stabbed you with. Carved ivory handle. The heirloom one. It's not in evidence." 

"How would I know where it is?" Steve bluffed. 

"Maybe Chin borrowed it. Or Kono." 

"Maybe," Steve agreed. 

"Anyhow, I fell asleep at my desk at work. Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping anyhow. I thought if I left you alone for a while, you might get some rest,” Danny explained. “Steve? This is a bad idea. We need to go back.” 

“Danny, I’m going nuts in that room.” 

Steve was in complaining mode, being a real baby. He had one arm thrown around Danny’s shoulders, and was leaning on him as they walked side by side through the back stairwell. Danny clutched Steve protectively around the waist, careful not to squeeze too tight or too hard. They were shuffling along at one-quarter speed, but they were moving. Steve had his other arm around his own middle, not just to cushion the movement of each step, but also to hold up the Makarov tucked into his waist band. The HPD officer acting as an extra guard was not far behind them, eyes blinking in surprise. He knew too that Steve belonged back in bed. 

“This is such a bad idea. Dr. Fran is going to be pissed off if she finds out. Where did you get these sweats?” Danny asked, plucking gently at the back waistband. 

“I begged Mary to bring me some pants. I hate lying around with my block and tackle hanging out all over,” Steve answered. 

Danny knew that getting clothes back was about more than the big SEAL’s modesty (of which he had none, as far as the detective had determined). Having pants meant Steve could wander far and wide in the populated sections of the hospital, and not draw any notice. 

“This is it. Third floor, right?” Steve confirmed. 

“Where are we going?” Danny asked. 

“To speak to Yu Lan,” Steve winced. He took his hand off Danny’s shoulders, and held himself up on the wall next to the door. 

“Why?” Danny rumbled. “Isn’t that waistband bothering your stomach?” he wondered, watching Steve rub his abdomen.

Steve mumbled reluctantly, “It pinches some." That was about as close as he was going to get to admitting he might be in a bit of pain. "I was dreaming about our case," McGarrett added. 

“This isn’t our case, Steve. _This is my case._ You are not working this case. You are supposed to be resting and healing. That’s what you should be doing. Resting. Healing. Not worrying about all this. Come on. I’m taking you back to bed. This is insane. You shouldn’t be up and around like this.”

“How did they get in the dumpsters?” 

“What? Who?” Danny gesticulated. He was angry that Steve had tricked him into coming down to the security wing. McGarrett had whined that he needed to get out of his room for a while. Williams had stupidly obliged. Now Danny felt like an idiot that he had indulged the request. Too many people indulged Steve, and that was part of the man’s problem!

“The kids and the junkies who have been overdosing. How did they get in the dumpsters?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t follow you.” 

Steve pulled the door handle, and proceeded into the security wing. Although no alarm had sounded, they were immediately stopped by an armed guard with a drawn gun. McGarrett regarded the man blandly. It took a lot more than a guy with a Glock with make McGarrett’s blood turn cold. 

“Put a damned guard outside that fucking door, or I’ll have your ass in sling so fast it’ll make your head spin,” the commander growled. 

The guard’s eyes widened. He tucked his gun away, sticking out a hand in caution.

“Sir? Commander? Should you be out of bed?” the guard asked, voice rising. He offered his arm as support to Steve. McGarrett’s anger softened. 

“Thanks. I’m fine. Put a guard on that door right this minute.” 

“Yes, sir,” the man answered, pulling himself up. He saluted, and ran to do Steve’s bidding. He found the HPD officer, and they coordinated on the commander’s request. 

“Danny, how did the kids get in the dumpsters?” Steve continued. 

“I don’t know,” Danny ground out the words, torn between tugging Steve back to bed, and hurrying him along so they could get this over with. 

“Think about it, huh? You gonna climb in a pile of shit and garbage to get high?” 

“Not me, but then again, I’m not a stupid teen, or a desperate junkie.” 

“Someone put them there.”

“What?” 

“The question is why though. Someone else had to have been at the scene. Someone else had to push them into the dumpsters after they were dead, or at least once they were at a point where they were no longer able to fight back. But why?”

“It makes sense that someone put them in the dumpsters, but like you said, the question is why,” Danny agreed. 

"Why stand there and watch them getting high? Why put them in the dumpsters?" 

"Why?" 

“Which room is she in?” Steve asked. 

Danny pointed mutely, supporting him as they approached. He was having second thoughts. Should he take the gun away from Steve first? Was McGarrett here to do Yu Lan harm? Danny kinda doubted that was McGarrett's purpose. First off, he wasn't really up to anything more than verbal sparring. Steve’s face was an ashen-gray color, and he moved sluggishly. Danny maneuvered him to the closest chair. McGarrett strained to reach one of the touchpads on the corded remote hanging off the side railing. A light above the bed came on, bathing the woman in bright rays. 

Yu Lan in the flesh. She was little more than a child, younger indeed than the twenty-five claimed on her admittance forms from the chic-chic hospital in Maui. Guilt washed over Steve’s features. He scrunched down in his chair, and filled with self-loathing as he catalogued what he had done to her. 

Yu Lan’s chin and right jaw were heavily bruised – that was where he must have pushed her up against the wall with one burly forearm. She breathed in loud rasps which hurt to hear. It must have been painful, drawing air through an injured lung. The cast on her right arm and hand dwarfed her extremity. It was swaddled in a sling which kept it close to her body. Her lower chest and ribs were wrapped tight. Her feet were clad in dirty, no-slip socks to ward off the chill in the room. 

The table beside her bed was Spartan clean. There were no personal effects lying about. There were no candles, no cards, no flowers. Steve stroked the protection necklace from Kono which hung around his neck. He had rubbed the inside and outside of the middle shell until it was almost smooth. Danny wondered what thoughts were running through his partner's mind right now. Steve let go of the necklace, reached over to the bed, and eased two fingers and a thumb around Yu Lan’s loose left hand. He tucked her little fist under the blankets, and pulled back again. As he was easing gingerly into his chair, Danny gasped, fingers digging into Steve’s shoulders. 

Yu Lan’s brown eyes opened, and immediately narrowed in distrust. Her breathing ratcheted dramatically. She went on the defensive, as much as she could. Her body tensed, waiting the attack which wasn’t coming. Flat on her back and unable to defend herself. No wonder she looked so scared. But scrappy. Very scrappy. Danny thought about Grace, and about the fact that Yu Lan was not much bigger, and not much older. If their worthy opponent was eighteen, he would be heartily surprised. 

“No, no, no, no,” Steve whispered, waving both hands. Yu Lan’s left hand shot out for the call button on the same corded remote Steve had used to turn on the light. McGarrett pushed the call button for her, and let the corded remote dangle from the railing again.

“It’s all right,” Danny promised. 

“It’s okay. Hey. Relax. Ni hen hao,” Steve offered. 

The familiar words calmed Yu Lan somewhat. 

“Ni hen hao,” Steve repeated. 

Yu Lan huffed, and her lips parted with a smirk. 

“You speak crappy Chinese,” she taunted.

“Not my best second language,” Steve admitted. 

“Do not embarrass self. Speak English.” 

“Okay. I’m sorry.” 

Yu Lan rasped for breath, and sneered in reply. “Bulldozer.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Kaiju.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

An attendant from the nurse’s station appeared at Yu Lan’s doorway. 

“Detective Williams?” she blurted when she recognized Danny. 

“Hey, Pua. Sorry to barge in on you unannounced,” Danny said as he turned to greet her. 

“Don’t stay long. Ms. Lan needs her rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Danny promised. 

The attendant vanished again, but not before her eyes washed over Steve with suspicion, and back again to Yu Lan with great sympathy. 

“Make it quick, whatever you came here to say,” Danny urged Steve, who swallowed loudly, and shifted in his chair. 

“I will not speak to you without my attorney,” Yu Lan murmured, rasping at intervals between the words. 

“You don’t have to speak. But if you get bored, and you want company, I’m up on five. I believe you already know the code,” Steve chuckled. 

Yu Lan’s eyes glimmered with surprise. 

“It’s just that the bottoms of your socks are dusty,” Steve shrugged. 

“I am allowed to walk up and down the hall for exercise, but I have not left this area. The guards will not allow it," Yu Lan growled painfully. 

“You’re looking for a way out though. I can’t say as I blame you. Yours is a delicate position to be in.” 

“I am in no condition to go far, thanks to you,” Yu Lan complained. 

“But you would drag yourself out of here on your hands and knees if you had to. I understand that.” 

Yu Lan smirked at McGarrett, neither confirming or denying his supposition. 

“Your master is not coming back for you, at least, not like you’re hoping,” Steve continued. 

Yu Lan’s smirk faded.

“I know how you feel. I’ve been in your position.” 

“Spare me your sympathies.” 

“You’d like to think your master is fond of you, that you mean something to him beyond the usefulness of your abilities, but the truth is, you’re a tool and nothing more. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure he misses you. But that's as far as it goes. He used you as long as he could, and now that you can no longer live up to the purpose that he requires, he has replaced you.” 

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” Yu Lan grimaced.

“I spent half my life in your position, doing everything they told me to do, never questioning why. They said jump. I asked how high. But I knew I never mattered to the people in charge. I mattered to my fellow soldiers, that’s all.” 

“Do you want me to cry for you?” she wondered.

“Who is he?” 

“Who?” 

“Your friend. Your replacement. The one who has been prowling around my wing. He was even in my room. Who is he?” 

“I will not answer questions without my lawyer. I do know my rights.” 

“You haven’t seen him, of course.”

“Seen who?” 

“Your friend. He won’t let you see him. But you know why he’s here.”

“You speak in riddles, and you make me tired. Go away.”

“Your master isn’t coming back for you, not like you think. Your friend has been sent with two specific purposes. To finish me, and if he must, to finish you.”

Yu Lan did not reply. She clenched her left hand around her right fingers, rubbing the jagged edge of one nail. Steve continued to speak.

“You’ve reached a point where you are no longer useful to your master. He may have grieved your loss, but not for long. Our battle took us both out of the equation. Now the question in your master’s mind is if you’re a liability or not. Have you spoken to us or not? Do you know enough to compromise him? Are you going to break under interrogation, and tell your captors everything you know in order to save your own skin? Or are you a good soldier? Are you loyal to him? If you know you’ve been compromised, will he have to send someone to take you out? Or will you do the right thing, and kill yourself for his sake?”

Danny felt a wave of sympathy bubble up inside his chest as Yu Lan’s face rippled with emotion. It didn't take her long to tuck it all away, to suppress what she was feeling. Hard luck kid like her? Steve wasn't going to get anywhere, playing on the sympathies of an orphan who had had to clutch and claw and fight her up out of disadvantaged poverty. 

“I promise you, I have no intention of harming you, or interrogating you. With your permission, I’ll ask Dr. Fran to move you up to my wing. You'll be safer, closer to me. I reprogrammed the security system so that if someone comes in one door, you can get out the other door without having to punch in a code. It’s a means of escape if you need it. Easier than prying open a window. You can have your choice of rooms. Or you can share mine. She’s treating both of us, so that would actually make things easier for Dr. Fran if we were in the same wing.”

“Um, Steve?” Danny whispered. He leaned down as he spoke, even knowing that Yu Lan was watching them interact. 

“Not now, Danno.” Steve turned to the side and almost brushed noses with Danny. There was something firm and stern in his eyes which made Danny fall quiet. What was Steve up to? 

“You waste your breath, Commander. My master cares for me. He has raised me like his own child. He will not abandon me, and he will not kill me.” 

“How sure are you? He didn’t halt his operations while you’ve been down. No, Yu Lan. The minute he left you at that hospital in Maui, he called for your replacement, and he kept right on moving. You’re a tool. Nothing more. You’re broken and worthless to him now. You’ve already been replaced. It’s just a question of how long it takes for his new right hand to get up to speed, and take us both out.” 

“I will listen to no more of your lies.” 

“What happened to the person before you? Another orphan, I’m sure. Another child he plucked up, dusted off, and set about training to follow and protect him. There must be dozens of you, all ready to serve, all eager to move up into an empty place when the person above you is knocked out of the game. That’s the nature of your position. I know how that feels. I’ve been there. Lived that. What happened to the person before you?” 

“I will not listen.” 

“The guy before me took two to the chest, and one to the neck. He was still breathing when he went down. My commanding officer ordered the rest of us to continue on with the mission. We weren’t twenty yards away from Tree’s position when I heard the last gunshot. But you know what? Tree was out of bullets. It wasn’t five minutes later, our commanding officer joined us. He promoted me to team leader, while putting away his Ruger. And then he ordered us again to continue on with the mission. Just like that.”

Yu Lan looked away, staring at the far wall. 

“That’s all right. Don’t listen me. Just think about it. One thing we both know is true. When your replacement comes for you, you’re going to recognize their face.”

Steve stretched his legs, and grimaced in pain. 

“You’re pretty handy with a blade,” he commented dryly. 

Yu Lan snorted, but she didn’t meet his eyes. 

“I bet your master sends you one. Or maybe he already has?”

Yu Lan’s head whipped around, her mouth hanging open for a second before she bit her lips tight together. She turned away again just as quickly.

“Don’t answer. I don't want to know. Because if I knew for certain you had a blade, I'd have to tear this room apart. Have you moved to isolation at a prison facility instead of a cushy hospital. I'd rather not have to do that." 

Steve stared and waited. Danny held his breath. Yu Lan shuffled her feet, and clutched her right hand in her left a bit tighter.

"I’ll leave it up to you. The offer stands,” Steve said. 

McGarrett pulled himself up to his feet slowly and painfully. He bowed low to Yu Lan, and rotated to walk out the door. The tap, tap, tap of orthopedic-clad toes greeted him at the doorway. 

"Hey, Nana." 

"I'm going to count to ten, Commander. You better be out that door, and back upstairs, or there is going to be hell to pay," Dr. Fran warned. Steve tucked his head down, looking up at her through his long lashes. His right hand held his waist, and the Makarov sitting there. His left hand fumbled with the edge of his hospital gown as he dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"Sorry, Dr. Fran," Danny offered. 

"Oh, no. Don't you sorry me. I'm holding you responsible for his bad behavior. Both of you. Out of this room. Back upstairs. Don't make me come up there after you," Dr. Fran chided sternly. The SEAL and the detective looked at each other, and shuffled for the exit door to the back stairwell. 


	15. The Storm Before the Calm

It was almost an hour later when Dr. Fran appeared. She was not alone. A squat gray and blonde haired woman in a naval uniform marched in behind Dr. Fran, her shoes clacking on the tiles. She smoothed her jacket sleeve, and followed behind the doctor until she spotted the patient. 

“May I?” Tank asked. 

“Be my guest,” Dr. Fran muttered. 

That was the point at which Danny and Mary were unceremoniously tossed out of Steve’s room, herded into the hallway with Tank nipping at their heels like an anxious border collie. Dr. Fran closed and locked Steve’s door. McGarrett swung both legs over the side of the bed and pulled himself up at attention in front of Captain Karlsen. The tough nurse pointed back to the bed. Steve scrunched back down inside the covers and hunched his shoulders slightly, almost as if he expected a whipping, or at least a severe tongue-lashing. 

“Who is that?” Mary whispered in amazement. 

“The Boss of Him,” Danny murmured back. 

“Give me those pants, soldier,” Tank ordered. 

“But….” Steve started to protest. 

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

Steve shimmied out of the sweats, and hid his lower half under the blankets. Tank folded up the sweats and put them on the foot of the bed. When she spotted the Makarov hidden in the covers, she held out a hand. Steve reluctantly slipped her the weapon as well. 

“Have you been insubordinate with your doctor?” Tank demanded as she pushed the Makarov into the folds of the sweatpants. 

“No,” Steve denied. 

“She has asked you to remain in bed, and to rest. Have you stayed in bed? Have you rested?” 

“Somewhat,” Steve lied. Dr. Fran cleared her throat and frowned at him. He hung his head again. 

“Commander, don’t waffle with me. I am in no mood!” Tank threatened, raising her voice. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve answered as he hunched down even further. 

Dr. Fran moved to the other side of the bed, and opened a sterile package of bandages and antiseptic ointment. When Tank got angry, she got loud. But Dr. Fran appeared to be the exact opposite. When she was angry, she got deathly quiet. 

“I need to have a look at your wounds. Make sure you haven’t torn any stitches,” Dr. Fran murmured. 

“About that,” Steve began to explain as he scooted horizontal on the bed and moved the gown up while keeping the blankets in place around his lower half. “They were itchy,” Steve defended anxiously. 

The further up the gown rose, the wider Dr. Fran’s eyes got. Whatever she was seeing had her massaging her forehead and the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. 

“What did you use to remove them?” she demanded in clipped words.

“I borrowed a couple of things from your office.” 

“Goddamn it, Steven!” Tank bellowed. McGarrett flinched, fingers and toes clenching into the bed. 

“Staple remover?” Dr. Fran attempted to joke. 

“Letter opener, actually, and the scissors from the sewing kit in your top drawer.” 

“Do you wanna smack him, or can I?” Tank wondered. 

Dr. Fran shook her head. 

“Commander, I’ve tried appealing to your sense of self-preservation, of which you have little, and to your sense of reason, of which you have even less at times,” the doctor murmured patiently with the SEAL. 

“You have to be firm these boys, Doctor, or they will walk all over you,” Tank interjected. 

“Since you won’t listen to me, Captain Karlsen has graciously agreed to help keep you in line for the rest of your stay.”

“Don’t worry, Doctor. I will have someone here around the clock to insure the Commander keeps his ass in that bed where it belongs, until such time as you deem him ready to return to duty. If he steps out of line again, I’ll let him have it both barrels.”

Tank picked up the sweats and the gun, and pulled out the drawer on the small table by the bed, preparing to drop the items inside. She almost dropped the drawer onto the floor instead. A swirling stew of medical instruments peered out, along with several clips of extra bullets. The contents of the drawer shifted forward and backward again. 

“Did you open all the packages in my office?” Dr. Fran asked. 

“Yes,” Steve answered, barely audible. Tank bit back a smile, and shook her head at the same time. Steve was picking at his fingernails, unable to look either of them in the face. 

“Is that my mini screwdriver set?” Dr. Fran wondered, craning her neck at the contents of the drawer. 

“Yes.” 

“Promise me you weren’t using that on your staples,” she pleaded. 

Steve shrugged one shoulder. 

“No. I needed it for the security system,” he replied. 

Tank pushed the gun into the nest of purloined instruments, and quietly closed the drawer. 

“What did you do to my security system?” Dr. Fran asked. 

“Reprogrammed it so I can get out the back door if I need to.” 

"I thought it was acting strange, but it didn't look like anyone had been unscrewing the plates."

"I was very careful," Steve replied. "You can open a lock without scratching it up and shit."

“When I’m done touching you up here, you’re going to tell me how to fix the system,” the doctor scolded gently. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Why didn’t you use a proper medical instrument to remove the sutures?” Dr. Fran asked. She stared at Steve’s chest, not sure where to start.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted meekly. "I wasn't thinking." 

Tank’s amusement faded from the time she walked away from the small table and back around the bed. She stopped for a moment, and traced a gentle hand over one of Steve’s shoulders. 

“We’re going to talk, Steven. We’re going to talk for a very long time,” she promised quietly. 

When Tank emerged into the hallway, she blocked the entrance to the room, hand clasping the handle closed. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.” 

Danny felt physically ill, mouth falling open at the sharpness of the request. Words bubbled up to his lips as his fists tightened at his sides. Mary beat him to the punch though. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted derisively. 

“We’re his family,” Mary countered. “We’re staying right here.” 

“You haven’t been able to keep Steve in bed where he belongs, so it’s my turn to try. I’m his superior officer. He has no choice but to listen me. Leave, please.” 

“I’m not in the Navy, lady! You can’t tell me what to do!” Mary barked. 

“Have you any idea what happens to someone who gets septicemia? Your brother has re-opened his wounds twice now, this time by removing the sutures with unsterilized office implements. Do you want him to die from multiple infections, rotting from the inside out?”

“Of course not,” Mary mumbled angrily. 

“Then you both need to leave him alone, and let him rest. Visit during regular office hours only, and keep it brief. You need to stop stressing Steve out.”

“But…” Danny protested. He only got one word out before Tank came right back at him. 

“Detective Williams, you and the others are more than capable of closing cases without Commander McGarrett, are you not?” 

Danny blurted, “Steve is an integral member of our team! We need him!” 

“What he needs right now is time to heal. He doesn’t need the extra stress.” 

“We’re not stressing him out,” Mary protested. 

Danny insisted, “Steve feels like you’re holding him prisoner. That’s what the problem is. That’s what’s stressing him out. You’re bringing up bad memories.” 

Tank nodded to Danny, while Mary ground her teeth. 

“There might be some truth to that,” Tank agreed. “I’ll do my best to mitigate his concerns, but I’m going to need your cooperation. Both of you. All of you. Do you understand me?” 

Danny buckled, acquiescing for Steve’s sake. Mary raised an eyebrow and grimaced, her face an exact imitation of Steve’s best disgruntled look. There was a sassy remark dancing on her tongue, begging to be spit out. Danny put a hand on Mary’s arm, pleading with his eyes alone. 

“We’ll be back at six,” Danny offered humbly. 

“Thank you,” Tank sighed. Danny pulled out Steve’s phone. 

“Give this to Steve. Tell him to call if he needs anything.” 

“Will do,” Tank agreed. Danny tugged hard on Mary’s arm, and pulled her towards the exit. Full of stubborn McGarrett pride, she dug in with her heels and smacked his concerned hand away. 

“It’s your goddamn fault that he’s got so many mental issues in the first place!” Mary howled as a parting shot before she smashed through the door and out onto the stairs.

“I can’t argue with that either,” Tank murmured sadly. Danny shook Tank’s hand and murmured a quiet ‘Thanks’ before he hurried to catch up to Steve’s sister. 

Outside, Mary had climbed into the cab of the big blue Silverado. She emptied her bag onto the front seat, and rooted around for her keys. Danny opened the passenger door, and carefully climbed inside. He pushed gently at the mountain of stuff that had been crammed into Mary’s purse. 

Mary’s hands trembled. She dropped the keys in the floorboard, and when she bent down to get them, shoving the seat back to make room, she bumped her head on the steering wheel. She angrily snatched up the keys, jamming them into the ignition. She jerked the seat forward again, and slammed the seatbelt into place. 

“Steve has been tortured. Did you know that?” Mary blurted.

“Yes,” Danny admitted. 

“My brother has been tortured, repeatedly.” 

“Yes,” Danny nodded. 

“He’s been drugged. He’s been shocked with electricity. He’s been water boarded. He’s been beaten. He’s been hung by his arms for days at a time. He’s been used for experimentation. Some jackass with dirty medical instruments had someone else hold my brother down while they cut him open, and they watched to see how much pain Steve could take before passing out.”

Danny gulped softly and blinked back tears. 

“What am I supposed to do, Danny? What am I supposed to do with the knowledge that Steve remains loyal, and at the beck and call, of a government organization which has allowed him to be repeatedly captured and assaulted, and yet they sent him back out there into danger, again, and again, and again?”

“I don’t know,” Danny whined miserably. 

“How am I supposed to feel about the fact that my government will ask idiots like my brother to put themselves at risk, telling him it’s for the better good? But they don’t make sure the soldiers who are risking their lives for our country are given mental health counseling, not without jeopardizing their careers? That’s why Steve won’t see a therapist. He doesn’t want to get discharged from the Navy over his need for therapy. Because if you need therapy, you’re seen as weak. If you’re weak, they don’t want you. If you can’t handle abuse, and deprivation, and hardship, they don’t want you anymore. They pushed him out there into dangerous situations over and over again, and yet they won’t allow him to talk to someone. And seriously, how fucked up is it that Steve has been hurt so many times, and in so many ways, but he keeps going back for more?!”

Danny sat silently on the other side of the truck as Mary kept screaming. 

“This is Dad’s fault! Mom’s too! Her fault too! But I blame Dad for making Steve feel like he is not worth being loved, being cared about,” Mary decided, yanking on the gear shift. She whipped the truck around like a toy, jamming it into drive. 

“How did you find out what happened?” Danny wondered. 

“Steve was so drugged up he had no idea what he was saying. Anything I asked, he answered. No, don’t do that.” 

“Do what?”

“Don’t sit there and wish he had opened up to you instead of me. You don’t want this,” Mary cried, hand over her heart. “You don’t want what’s inside me now. It’s a Pandora’s box, Danny. I heard way more than I ever wanted to know. Ever needed to know. Ever care to hear about again. They neutered my brother like a stray cat.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe I yelled at him, because I thought he had done it, but no, someone else… someone. They cut him open and…” 

“Stop,” Danny pleaded, putting his hand on her hand clenched into the material of the truck seat. She immediately snatched her hand away.

“You know, if that woman hadn’t sliced him up, he would never have gotten the surgery that he needed to correct what happened to him. How am I supposed to feel about this? What am I supposed to say to him?” 

“Nothing,” Danny advised. 

“Nothing?” Mary barked. They jerked to a stop at a red light, and she hissed at him. “I need to say something! I can’t pretend I don’t know. I need to apologize for how I hurt him, the things that I said?”

“Steve isn’t good at talking about his feelings. Particularly when he’s in pain. If you badger him into talking about this, who knows how he’ll react?” 

“How long have you known what happened?” Mary asked, a shrewd eye stabbing into Danny.

“A few weeks.” 

“And you haven’t said anything?” 

“I’ve been afraid of upsetting Steve by talking about something he wants to pretend never happened.”

“Goddamn it, Danny! He needs to talk to someone. He needs to. If he holds that inside, and he doesn’t talk about it…” 

“I know. I know,” Danny sighed. 

“They don’t make Hallmarks card for this occasion! Thank you for sacrificing your ability to father children, so I can get up free every morning, and go have a five-dollar coffee at Starbucks, and whine about my terrible day at my 9-to-5 job. They don’t make a card for that!” 

“I know,” Danny soothed. 

"And Steve? He would make an awesome dad. You know he would! It's not fair!" 

"I know," Danny chanted miserably. 

“Has he talked to you about what happened?” Mary accused. 

“No,” Danny snorted.

“How did you find out?” 

“I overhead his nurses talking.” 

“Steve hasn't talked to you? But you’re sleeping together? Aren’t you close enough to talk about something like this?” 

“Your brother considers sex to be far less intimate than a deep and meaningful conversation. In fact, he’s not above using sex to distract me from asking questions,” Danny admitted sheepishly. 

“This is Dad’s fault,” Mary decided. 

“How is this your father’s fault?”

“No matter what we did as kids, it was never enough to make my dad happy. To make him proud. Steve pushed himself. I pushed myself. But it was never enough. And MOM? MOM?!” Mary was snorkeling and snorting through the rising tears. “You know what? I’ve known how she felt about me since I was four years old, and I put a box of Fruit Loops in the cart, and she stood in the middle of the grocery store and screamed at me that she never wanted kids. She never wanted us, because we were the reason she was stuck here, in a marriage she never wanted, stuck in an existence that was sucking the life out her! She never wanted kids, because we were cramping her style! She couldn’t go off and be Little Miss Super Spy, because she had to pick us up from school, and cook dinner, and tuck us in bed at night. Well you know what? Fuck her! Fuck him! Fuck them both! They should have decided they couldn’t be happy together before they got married. Before they had kids! Don’t have kids, and then make them feel like you don’t love them, or care about them, or they’re going to turn out like me! And like Steve! I push everyone away before they get attached, and he can’t even... I just... I just…” 

Danny remained quiet, shifting his feet in the floorboard as Mary took off again like a blast. He wanted to say something that would soothe her, but the words failed him. He could have spouted meaningless nonsense about how their father couldn’t say how much he loved his kids, because he couldn’t let himself be seen as weak or vulnerable. But he loved them. He loved them very much. Danny had listened to the tape from the Champ box. Danny couldn’t speak for Doris’s concerns, albeit concerns perceived through the wounded heart of a child who had been sent away, and then lied to and ignored for several years. Danny didn’t know what it was like to be a reluctant mother who felt her life was killing her. But he had every idea what it was like to be a father who loved his kids beyond measure, even if he couldn’t say the words. 

“Mom never wanted Steve, let alone me, but at least she’ll talk to Steve! Do you know why she’ll talk to Steve?! Because they’ve got something in common. She tortures people for a living, and he’s been tortured. They can at least bond over that! Mom will talk to Steve, but she won’t talk to me!” 

“That’s totally my fault. Don’t blame Steve,” Danny pleaded. 

Mary was gawking again. 

“What??” she wondered. 

“I forced Joe White to find Doris so she could reassure Steve that she wasn’t dead. I was trying to help. That’s on me, not on Steve.” 

Mary shoved the truck over to the side of the road, riding two wheels up onto the curb. She barely missed clipping a road sign. She slammed the gearshift into park as Danny lowered the arm and the leg he had raised in anticipation of the road sign crashing through the windshield. 

“Will you watch out?!” he howled at her. 

“You talked to Doris recently?” 

“Yes.” 

“When?”

“Couple days ago,” Danny shrugged. “I figured Steve would have told you.” 

“Get out,” Mary hissed. Her voice coiled up in her chest and shook its rattler tail at him. 

“What?” Danny laughed uncomfortably. 

“Get out of this truck, now.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Mary snarled. Judging from the expression on her face, she was not kidding. She was wild with frenzy, and aching with hurt, but she was not by any measure of the word ‘kidding’ with him. 

Danny timidly slipped open the passenger door, and put a foot on the curb. Mary hit the gas and took off again, driving right over the road sign with a thump and a clank. Danny landed on the sidewalk on his knees, watching the Silverado bounce wildly through traffic with the passenger door open. Objects from Mary’s purse were flying out as she sped away. 

The detective pulled himself slowly upright, rubbing his knees and groaning in pain. A horn honked behind him. Danny whirled to see who was bothering him. Chin Ho Kelly smiled tentatively. Kono waved a couple fingers before lowering her hand again. Danny limped over to them. He climbed into the rear passenger seat of Chin’s Mustang, and silently buckled himself in. 

“Hey, brah."

"Hey." 

"We just missed you at the hospital," Chin admitted. 

"Been following you for a few blocks," Kono added. 

"Should we follow her some more?” Chin asked.

“Nope,” Danny advised. 

“Nope,” Kono agreed, wincing as horns honked ahead. The Silverado veered through a red light at the next intersection, and kept right on going, regardless of the five cars which had to dodge aside to avoid a collision.

“We’ve been bouncing around a few ideas. You care to brainstorm with us back at the office?” Chin asked. 

“We were going to include the Big Kahuna, but Tank wouldn’t let us into his room,” Kono whined. 

“Visiting hours only from now on. Steve is acting out, and he’s not getting his rest. He took out his staples and stitches with a letter opener.” 

“Ahhhhh!” Chin and Kono cringed in unison. 

“I promised Tank we would stick to regular visiting hours, and that we would try to solve the case without Steve’s help. It’s you, me, and thee from here on out,” Danny ordered. 

“Why did you promise this?” Kono wondered. 

“It’s for Steve’s own good.”

“Doubt he’s going to agree with that assessment,” Chin remarked, not without a hint of humor. 

“Has anybody heard from Morozova this morning?” Danny asked. 

“So it’s you, me, thee, and Frosty?” Kono laughed softly. “Steve’s really not going to like that, is he?” 

“We received the preliminary reports from Agent Boucher about the crime scene evidence at the warehouse which exploded into flames while you and she were sitting outside the front door,” Chin interjected gently. 

“Let’s head back to the office and get coordinated on this once and for all," Danny decided.


	16. Cheese Doodles

“Danny?” 

Williams lifted his eyes from his new phone, twirling the device over and over in his hands. It had been six full hours, and Steve hadn’t called even once. Thoughts were dancing around in Danny’s brain, a never-ending stream of self-deprecating yammer. He was berating himself for leaving his partner and friend alone at the hospital. He was also curious where Mary was, but not enough that he was going to call her and find out. 

“I’m listening,” he lied, giving Chin his attention again. 

“We’ve combed over this ATF report several times, and nothing stands out that’s either incriminating or illegal. How do you want to proceed?” Chin asked. 

“Whether we like it or not, we have to at least entertain the possibility that Yun Fei isn’t guilty of anything,” Danny admitted. 

“At least as far as the contents of this warehouse are concerned,” Kono chirped. 

“Strictly speaking,” Danny agreed. 

“The ATF was very thorough. We have absolutely nothing on Yun Fei, other than our suspicions,” Chin complained. 

“What does the report say about the serial numbers on the fragments of that ammo box they found at the scene?” Danny was almost afraid to ask. 

“The serial numbers don't match any of the boxes on Steve’s list. Boucher goes out of his way to say how much he appreciated our cooperation in the matter.”

“They don’t match?” Kono questioned. 

“No,” Chin repeated.

“But it was Steve’s box, wasn’t it?” Kono’s eyes narrowed. 

“Did you give them a bogus list?” Chin asked Danny.

“No. I gave them the list Steve said to give them.”

“Does he have two lists just in case?” Kono asked. 

“I don’t know how Steve pulled it off, and I’m not gonna ask. Plausible deniability,” Danny chirped. A moment later, he added, “What about the fact that Steve can place Yun Fei at the scene of his attack? Doesn’t that at least give us some ammunition against this guy?”

“Any lawyer worth his Rolex is going to point out that Steve was drugged with a hallucinogenic, and what he thinks he saw can’t be trusted,” Chin mourned. 

“Yes, he was drugged, at the scene, by his attackers,” Danny clipped off the words angrily. "He said he couldn't remember the man's face very clearly, but given the fact we also have Yun Fei on surveillance, that should hold some weight." 

“We can’t build our case on Steve's witness statements, or anyone else's," Kono sighed. She was talking in between eating cheese doodles, her fingertips dotted with neon orange dust. Danny was watching her like a hungry dog as her fingers moved back and forth between the bag and her mouth. 

“Even without Steve’s witness statements, indisputable physical evidence puts Yu Lan at the scene. We found her hair and her blood. That’s concrete. We have her dead to rights,” Danny said as he continued to watch Kono eating. Kono pushed the bag towards Danny. He snatched up a cheese doodle, and crammed it quickly into his mouth. He took another before she could pull the bag away. Kono waved the bag at Chin, who shuddered and refused the offer. They had not stopped for lunch – just kept working right on through the day. But he was not yet so hungry that he would entertain eating vending machine food. 

“What do we have in the end? Victim statements we can’t use. Physical evidence which places only one of our alleged, suspected perps at the scene. At this point, we can’t touch Yun Fei,” Chin said. 

“What happened to the ivory-handled blade?” Danny asked. “Did either of you borrow it out of evidence?” 

“I didn’t,” Kono answered. 

Chin shuffled pages and files, and avoided their inquiring looks. Kono munched a cheese doodle, brows moving together. Danny merely stared and waited. Chin crumbled, shoulders sinking.

“Steve asked me to sign it out,” Chin admitted. "And he said I shouldn't tell you." 

“Of course," Danny chortled angrily, slamming down his new phone. 

“Sorry, brah," Chin offered. 

“But there wasn’t any record in the evidence log. I checked,” Danny countered. 

“No, there wasn’t,” Chin agreed. Danny did not ask how Chin had pulled that off. Certainly he would have had to have signed for the article of evidence. Maybe it was best not to ask how Kelly had pulled it off. 

“Why did Steve want the blade?” Danny wondered. 

“He said he was playing a hunch.”

“He asked you to give the blade back to Yu Lan, didn’t he?” Danny asked, his chipmunk chuckle erupting. Chin nodded reluctantly. “I’m gonna kill him,” Danny threatened in a quiet, dangerous voice. 

“He wanted to see how she would react if she thought her master had returned it to her. Would she continue her mission, or would she accept Steve’s offer of absolution and asylum?” 

“You slipped the blade into her hospital room?”

“Yes. Look, I didn’t ask a ton of questions. I trust Steve, and I trust his hunches,” Chin defended. 

“I trust Steve too. But he gets tunnel vision when he’s convinced he’s right about a case, even when the clues are pointing in a different direction. He’s playing mind games with Yu Lan. That’s what he’s doing. He’s pushing her buttons,” Danny nodded, finally understanding. 

“Hey, Cuz. I’m impressed,” Kono teased tenderly. 

“What?” Chin asked. 

“How’d you get the blade to her without being seen?” Kono asked. 

“She was asleep,” Chin replied casually. 

“What are we supposed to do if she hurts someone with that thing?” Danny growled. 

“She’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“What if she comes after Steve again?” 

“She won’t.” 

“You don’t know that!” 

“Steve knows what he’s doing,” Chin countered. 

“I sure as hell hope so,” Danny muttered. “I can’t believe he lied to me. I can’t believe I fell for it!”

Chin ducked Danny’s hurt look, and Kono quickly steered them back to the case. 

“Having Yu Lan in custody, that’s not going to get us anywhere as far as stopping the flow of this shit all over the island. Like Morozova said, Yu Lan is the puppet. We need to take down the master,” Kono growled. “We need to take down Yun Fei to stop Cloud 9 from coming in. I don’t buy his act either. This guy is much too good to be true. We need something concrete on him. It’s there. We just haven’t connected the dots yet.”

“What we need is a direct and indisputable link between Yun Fei’s presence in Hawaii and the influx of Nubes-Noveum,” Chin interjected. “A link that is not clouded by personal prejudices.” 

“Other than Steve’s drugged eye-witness testimony, which would be ripped to shreds,” Danny agreed reluctantly. He was steadily mowing his way through Kono’s cheese doodles. “We do have other witnesses who survived. But their testimony would be dismissed as the product of a hallucinogenic as well.”

“We have Yun Fei on surveillance in Chinatown,” Kono said brightly. 

“Him and thousands of other people. He’s had years of practice hiding his illegal activities inside his legitimate business. The ATF said in spite of the fact he lost his largest warehouse, he is continuing to bring in shipments from home, shipments they have verified from point of origin to intended destination, shipments which are above the board,” Chin rattled off.

Kono was flipping through the files open on her tablet, leaving a trail of orange dust in her wake. Chin watched her, horrified. Thank goodness for screen protectors! 

“Wait. What?” Danny fumbled in his pocket for more change. 

“What?” Kono asked. Danny chucked change up on the computer table, readying to make another trip to the vending machines downstairs. 

“What?” Chin asked, putting down his tablet and dropping his files open on the large computer table so he could see them better. 

“In spite of the fact Yun Fei lost his warehouse, he continues to receive shipments?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah,” Kono nodded. 

“Where is he putting the incoming shipments?” Danny asked. 

“In a warehouse?” Chin repeated slowly.

Kono’s expression said it all, but she spouted the words anyway. “Jersey, how could you not have already picked up on that already? The only one he owned out-right was the one that went up in flames. He’s having to rent space in other warehouses to store the incoming merchandise.”

“Why haven’t we been able to get search warrants for his warehouse spaces?” Danny exclaimed.

“Problematic,” Chin protested. 

“Why?” Danny asked, shoulders and hands bouncing with impatience. As he was talking with his hands, he was spreading neon-orange doodle dust everywhere – his clothes, his hair, the computer table below, and all over his new phone. 

“He’s storing the incoming shipments in a warehouse owned by the Chinese government,” Chin reported. 

Danny’s eyes narrowed, and he wrinkled his nose. 

“Why would they let him do that?” he asked. 

“Because he’s a well-regarded Chinese citizen who performs philanthropic deeds for sick people and orphans. His government is doing him a solid by helping him with a place to store his goods, in order to continue to do business,” Chin answered. 

“You look like you smelled something nasty,” Kono laughed at Danny. She tipped the doodle bag above her open mouth, and tapped the bottom. A flow of orange dust enveloped her. 

“They’re letting him rent space to store his goods?” Danny clarified. 

“Yup,” Kono said as she wiggled around to dust herself off. 

“In one of their warehouses?” 

“Yup.” 

“What’s in it for them?” 

“Oh, I dunno? The tax revenue from the sale of billions of dollars’ worth of medicine?” Chin mused. “Kono, could you make more of a mess? You’re like a toddler with a cookie.” 

Kono shrugged and sniffled, dusting herself off. Danny picked up his change off the table. 

“I’m going down for doodles.” 

“That sounds like a really cheap porno,” Kono joked. Danny flipped her the bird as he headed out the door. 

Danny breached the front door to the team’s office, and he nearly ran over Morozova. She was pounding up the steps in heavy boots. Danny took one look at her and nearly passed out. She was dressed in a pair of Steve’s jeans and one of his Navy tee shirts emblazoned with a trident. Her blonde hair was pulled up and back. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and she was only more gorgeous. A tiny, petty part of Danny’s brain hated her intensely, and wished she would slip back down the stairs. 

“Good morning,” Danny chirped sarcastically. 

“Sorry. Slept late. We have problems. Where are you going?” 

“Cheese doodles,” he explained. She made a face. 

“Do not dally. I have news for you from Dima. He thinks he knows what Mr. Dreamweaver is up to.” 

Danny spent precious minutes cajoling and fighting with the feisty vending machine. When he returned, he emerged into the middle of a heated argument. Reeling in confusion at the cacophony of noise, Danny stopped in his tracks and almost dropped his armload of bags. He couldn’t understand what was being shouted back and forth, but he could tell it was not a happy conversation. 

Chin was on the phone, face a mask of concern. Kono was backing slowly away from the screen on the wall, where a squat man with close-cropped, white-blond hair was arguing full-force with Morozova. The man was wearing nothing more than a revealing hospital gown, and it was not a pretty sight. He was covered in scars and bruises and wounds, and a good number of mystic tattoos. A nurse in the background was urging the angry man to calm down. It was like a great symphony was warming up before a concert – a blurt of noise from the flutes, a retort from the trumpet section, a blaze of sound from the clarinets, and the hum of the violins. Morozova’s voice got more and more strident. The bombshell’s body language said it all – tense spine, clenched fists, scrunched-up face. Danny sidled up to Kono and Chin. Kono swiped a bag of doodles, popped it open, and started munching again. 

“Did the shit hit the fan?” Danny questioned. 

“Sorry, man. Didn’t pack my universal translator today,” Kono replied. “What happened to you?” 

“The first one got stuck on the coil. I had to buy a couple more to get them all to fall,” Danny explained. “Frosty, what happened?” he asked, tugging on her shirt tail. 

“There has been an incident in Moscow. The police are classifying it as a possible terrorist attack. A student attending a lecture at Lomonsov University doused his professor and sixteen other students with Cloud 9, and then fled the scene,” Morozova explained to Danny in English before facing the wall again to snarl at the man on the view screen.

“I’m on the phone with the American embassy in Moscow now, fishing for details, but they don't know any more than we already know,” Chin whispered, tucking his phone under his chin for a second only to pull it back up and yell into the receiver. “I’m still here! I’m on hold! Don’t hang up on me! Damn it.” 

“Can we get a name and face?” Danny asked. He studied himself, Kono, and their surrounding area, which was covered in a fine orange dust. It made him shudder, thinking about it being a white powder instead of an orange one. What had the professor and the other students done? 

“I’ll see what I can scare up,” Kono nodded, fingers flying. 

“Why is her captain so pissed off?” Chin motioned. 

“She left without permission,” Danny whispered. 

“I thought he sent her!” Chin blurted. 

“Jersey, is it just me, or does Goat Man there kinda look like you?” Kono squinted. Chin studied Danny, studied the man on wall screen, and commented to his cousin.

“Like twins separated at birth,” Chin agreed. 

“You’re both full of shit,” Danny informed them. “You got anything yet?” he asked Kono. 

“Nothing yet. Moscow has a tight grip on our usual sources. They’re not releasing any more information about the attack other than the basics. They’ve even temporarily jammed the internet to keep people from blogging about what’s going on,” the rookie answered. 

“They do not want you to think they are not in control. You have to look for clues in what they are not saying," Morozova said to the team. "If you’re going to keep yelling at me, I’m hanging up on you, Dima!” Morozova threatened her boss in English. 

“We have a level one emergency here, a possible terrorist situation, and where are you? You crept away in the middle of the night! Where is the stupid mutt? Did he put you up to this?” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Danny interrupted. “Watch your mouth, buddy!” 

“Who is this? Another mutt to give you fleas?” the squat man on the other end taunted. 

“I’m Detective Danny Williams, Hawaii Major Crimes Task Force. Who the hell are you, pal?” 

“Captain Dimitri Reznikov, and I am not your pal.”

“Well, Captain, why don’t you calm down and tell us what we’re dealing with?” Danny growled.

“Who are you, to order me around?” Dima flamed with color and anger. 

“Both of you, calm down. If Mr. Dreamweaver is behind this attack at Lomonosov University, we need to figure out his game plan,” Morozova chided. 

“Lieutenant, his plan should be perfectly obvious. Prior to this, he was satisfied to study one person's reaction at a time to his evil concoction. This no longer will satisfy his sadistic tendencies. The attack at MSU was his first field test on multiple subjects. It is the tip of the iceberg. This has been his objective all along. I believe he means to use this drug as a bioweapon to cause chaos and panic.” 

“If you’re right, we need to alert the proper authorities here, so that they may be prepared,” Morozova interjected. 

“I think we are the proper authorities,” Danny replied, unable to help the tiny smirk which popped up. 

“I’ll get on the phone with HPD, and CDC, and someone at Pearl-Hickam too,” Chin’s voice trailed off as he started dialing, heading towards his office door, presumably for a list of emergency numbers. 

“Dima, can you give me more details?” Morozova pleaded. 

“I am not Dima to you, not right now. I am your captain, and your commander, and you will speak to me with respect.”

“Captain, we do not have time for this posturing! We have to act fast," Danny interjected. 

“I agree completely, Detective,” Dima replied with heavy sarcasm. “But I cannot help myself. Lieutenant, I cannot look at you, wearing the Mutt’s clothes. What else am I to think but that he has tempted you to stray?” 

"The Commander is in the hospital. He is in no better shape than you are currently. Nothing has happened between us, now or ever, Dima. How many times must I tell you this before you believe me?" 

"Why are you in his clothes?" Dima pouted. 

“I had to wear something. You want me to take the clothes off?” Morozova countered. 

“Do not be fresh with me," Dima barked, eyes blazing. 

“I did not bring a suitcase. My uniform is at the cleaners. My budget does not permit shopping for suitable attire, and neither does my time. I am here to clear a case, not to shop. May we please concentrate on the situation at hand?” 

“You crept away in the middle of the night, after I expressly told you I wanted Novotny to go.” 

“I assumed you were delirious when you said you wanted to send Novotny. Why would you want to send your personal assistant instead of a trained and experienced detective?” 

“Because I need you here. I am bed-ridden, half-naked, and cannot be at my post. These nurses will give me no pants, and my best officer is thousands of miles away!”

“Best officer?” Morozova whispered, her tone changing slightly. This unexpected declaration had taken her by surprise. Dima sputtered with fury, hands rising and falling. 

“Yes, my best officer! This is why I wanted to send Novotny. I can do without him for a few days. But how will I manage without you? The boys, they do not mind for me. They are running around like headless chickens, no direction, no oversight. I have received seven complaints of police brutality today alone.”

“I thought I was helping best by coming here for more information,” Morozova murmured. Was she blushing? 

“Novotny should have gone.” 

“Our suspect is here. I should be here.” 

“You should be where I tell you to be, Morozova.”

“Do you wish for me to return?” 

“You cannot yet. The authorities have grounded all flights except military missions. We must make the best of the situation. You should do what you can where you are. The first thing you will do is buy yourself some appropriate clothes. I do not wish to see you dressed as such when we speak again.” 

“Yes, sir,” Morozova ground out the words. 

“I have put Yuri on a plane to you.”

“I thought you said all flights were grounded except military missions?” Danny barked, not cherishing the idea of another Moscow police officer wandering his island. 

“Clearly I was able to get him on one of the military flights,” Dima replied slowly and with much eyebrow action. The sarcasm was so thick you could practically drink it. 

“Novotny is a clerk. He is a typist. He is twenty years old!” Morozova protested. 

“Lieutenant, you will meet Yuri at the airport. You will be pleasant to the boy. I know you do not like him. He is very young, and has much to learn. But he is bright, and he is eager, and he will be useful to you.”

“How? If I need someone to type for me?” 

“Do not be unkind to the boy. He worships you. With faith and perseverance, we will make a man of him someday. Pick Yuri up, and make good use of him.”

“Target practice,” Morozova sneered. 

“That’s enough. Be glad I am not putting you on suspension for willful disobedience. How am I to manage without you? 

“I am sure you will manage, Dima.” 

“Can we desist with the jealous boyfriend schtick? We need everything you can give us about this attack,” Danny ordered.

“I have told you everything I know. A student attending a lecture doused his professor and fellow students with the Cloud 9 powder, and fled the scene.”

“Where did he go?”

“Let me consult my crystal ball,” Dima smirked at Danny. 

"So you don't know?" 

"I know he is in Moscow." 

“He escaped, is that what you’re saying?” Danny asked. 

“What an impressive detective you are,” Dima taunted. 

“You've got an entire city on lockdown, and you’ve grounded all flights, but you can’t find one dissent college student?” 

“We have not found him. But that does not mean he has escaped the city,” Dima defended. “We will locate the boy, rest assured, Detective Williams.” 

“Are you sure this kid is even connected to Yun Fei?” Danny pressed. 

“We have found no connection as of yet,” Dima replied. 

"It's hardly something he would advertise," Morozova decided. 

“Then we don’t know if this student is working for Yun Fei, or if he’s a lone-wolf psychopath with his own personal agenda? Do you have a name?” Danny demanded. 

“Shandian. I do not speak Chinese. I am sure I mangle the word,” Dima shivered. The nurse behind him dropped a heavy blanket on his shoulders. 

“You should be resting, Captain. I will give you five more minutes, and that is all,” she murmured. 

“Sean Dion,” Kono corrected from Danny’s side. She was digging furiously for more information. One picture blinked among the thousands of mugshots and passport photos floating past. Kono tapped on the picture, and the passport photo quickly filled half of the screen.

“He’s a baby,” Danny observed as the young man’s face appeared. 

“Twenty. Third-year student. Majoring in chemistry,” Kono chirped.

“Criminal history?” 

“He’s got an outstanding, unpaid parking ticket on record with HPD,” Kono murmured. 

“He's been here? In Hawaii? That's nice," Danny barked sarcastically. "Anything more serious than a parking ticket?”

“No.” 

“What’s he doing in Moscow?” 

“He’s been at Lomonosov since his second semester, sophomore year.”

“Where was he before that? Here?” 

“University of Hawaii, West Oahu campus,” Kono nodded. “If it means anything, his next of kin is a second cousin in the area.”

“See what you can find on his cousin," Danny ordered. 

Kono’s fingers were dancing over the files, shoving icons left and right and center. 

“Jade Kalani,” she interjected, pulling up the picture of a girl about the same age as Sean. 

“Are you sure they’re related?” Danny frowned. 

“They do not look alike,” Dima grunted. 

“Kono, get in touch with Jade Kalani. Talk to her about her cousin. Second cousin. Whatever," Danny requested. Kono nodded, grabbing her cheese doodles and heading for the door. 

Chin was coming back into the main area, tucking away his phone. 

“I’ve alerted HPD, CDC, and Pearl.”

“Stay here and monitor all channels for any developing situations. I need to talk to Steve about this,” Danny decided. It bothered him that he had yet to hear from McGarrett. Was no news good news? Or was no news a sign that something terrible had happened?

“Captain, you need to disconnect this call, and get your rest,” the nurse urged on the other end of the conversation. 

“Lieutenant, I am hanging up, at the behest of my charming captor. Collect Yuri, and make nice with the boy. Keep me posted on any new developments on your end.”

“Yes, Captain. Of course.”

"Where are you headed?" Danny asked Morozova on the way out. She hurried down the steps at his side. 

"To retrieve Novotny. We will join you at the hospital after, yes?" 

"See you in a few," Danny agreed. 


	17. Visiting Hours

Steve woke up groggy and confused. He was hot. There were voices in his darkened room. 

“No talking shop. He needs to rest.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Someone solid sat down on the bed, and dove into him for a hug. He buried a face in his neck, and whispered in his ear. 

"Missed you, buddy."

"Dad?" 

Steve instinctively slid sleepy arms around Danny’s shoulders, sat up slowly as his partner pulled up too. Steve had been dreaming he was standing at the sink in the yellow bathroom at home, except that he wasn’t tall enough yet to see into the mirror. One moment, Jack McGarrett was standing behind him, rubbing shaving cream on his face. Steve could hear his mother complaining in the other room. A baby was crying somewhere. The hand rubbing his face disappeared. Where had his father gone?

McGarrett shook himself awake, focusing his eyes on Danny. The anti-anxiety meds and the muscle relaxers were making his brain feel fuzzy and warm. Except that his stomach felt exactly the opposite – cold and annoyed and prickly. The universe was out of kilter. Something was wrong. He could hear the baby crying in his brain. 

“Buddy? What were you dreaming?” 

“I’ll give you a few minutes alone. Don’t let him rappel out the window,” Tank joked. Steve focused on the face in his face, the familiar blue eyes. 

“Hey there,” Danny offered a tentative smile. 

“Danno? I need to find my dad.”

Danny became mournful, and his hand cupped Steve’s jaw. 

“You were dreaming,” Danny whispered, rubbing his nose to Steve’s nose, breathing gently and slowly with him until he could steady himself. 

“What’s happening with the case?” Steve murmured, shaking himself and pulling slowly back from Danny. 

“I am not allowed to talk shop with you,” Williams protested quietly. McGarrett stared at him moodily, not at all happy. 

“They’re drugging me.”

“They want you to rest.”

Steve sputtered his annoyance, and fought to pull his legs out of the covers. 

“I can hear them in the walls,” he whispered, fingers clutching the edge of the mattress to keep the room from rocking and spinning. 

“What?” Danny frowned. 

“We have to get out of here,” Steve warned. He was using Danny to climb. First his elbow. Then his shoulder. Steve shifted sideways, and found his footing. 

“Slow down,” Danny soothed. “Where are you going?” 

“Gotta get out of here. It’s not safe to stay.” 

“Steve, you’re okay. No one is in the walls,” Danny assured him. 

“I’m being watched,” Steve fretted, head lolling around, eyes catching the ceiling, the walls, the door with an air of suspicion. 

“Yes, you are being watched, by very competent professionals who are doing their best to protect you from harm while you’re healing. Tank?” Danny called out. 

Steve was leaving this room with or without Danny’s help. McGarrett was on his feet, one arm around his stomach and chest, the other hand clawing for the door frame. He was out into the hallway in three steps. 

“Tank!” Danny shouted louder. 

Captain Karlsen appeared from Dr. Fran's office. She hunkered down and rolled forward like a football player, sticking a shoulder into Steve’s chest and keeping him steady. She wrapped one of his arms around her frame for support. 

“Commander?” 

“Gotta get out of here,” Steve repeated. 

“Why don’t we take a spin up and down the hallway. I’ll show you nobody is there, and then you’ll get back in bed?” Tank suggested. 

Danny supported Steve’s other side, and together the three of them strolled slowly in the quiet hallway. 

“They’re coming back.” Steve was certain. 

Tank stroked his back as they walked along. McGarrett peered nervously into every open portal. 

“You don’t have to worry,” Tank murmured. Danny mirrored Tank’s concern as she studied Steve’s face and half-mast eyes. “Not only is your police guard around here somewhere, I’ve got a couple youngsters posted. I’m not a complete idiot about security, you know?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve mumbled. 

“I’ve been doing this since before you were born.” 

“No, you haven’t,” Steve said as he found a small smile.

“Practically…” Tank stressed. “Let me show you. Will that make you feel better?”

Captain Karlsen walked Steve into one of the empty rooms, towards the windows. Tank adjusted the blinds to reveal the outside world. They could see the side of the hospital and all the levels of the parking garage like the layers of a cake. 

“There, there, and there. Do you see them? I’ve got people stationed at all the entrances and exits. Can you see down front?” 

She opened the window, and Steve stuck his head and shoulders through the aperture. 

“I’ve got it covered, sailor.”

Steve nodded his approval. 

“No one is getting in or out without being spotted,” Tank assured him. 

“It’s been days,” McGarrett mourned. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Danny chided tenderly. 

“Yu Lan,” Steve mumbled, eyes following the young soldiers in camo who were walking around the parking garage entrance. 

“What about her?” Danny wondered. 

“How is she?” 

“She’s fine,” Tank promised. Steve shook his head. 

“Still there?” he questioned. 

“She hasn’t tried to make a break for it, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Tank chuckled. 

“Yun Fei hasn’t contacted her,” Danny added. “It hasn’t been days, Steve. It’s only been a few hours. My next stop after you is to go visit her, and take back the gift you had Chin deliver.” 

Steve’s brows rose. He turned away from the window to catch Danny’s frown. 

“It was a calculated ploy.” 

“Too bad it didn’t pan out,” Danny snorted. 

“Gift?” Tank inquired. 

“One of her blades,” Steve admitted, rubbing the heel of his palm on one of his wounds in his side. 

“You idiot,” Tank grumbled, even while supporting Steve’s sagging frame. 

“I think it might be safer for both of you to have her moved again to a more secure facility. Maybe to one of the hospitals on the base. Maybe to a hospital base on the mainland,” Danny continued. 

“He won’t let her get away,” Steve warned cryptically. 

“Yun Fei doesn’t care about her, now that she’s no use to him,” Danny murmured sadly in reply. 

“She is our only hope of cracking this case,” Steve whispered, watching the flow of cars rolling in and out of the garage. McGarrett’s shrewd eyes were narrowing as his mouth tightened to a thin line. 

“Normally I’d be thrilled to ask what you’re going on about, but this time, I’m too afraid you’ll actually tell me,” Danny grumbled. 

“The blade.” 

“What?” 

“The blade,” Steve huffed. 

"You promised her she would not be interrogated," Danny reminded him. 

"She won't be," Steve assured him sternly. 

“Morozova’s boss thinks…..” 

Danny’s voice trailed off. A white car was pulling into the garage, but the driver spotted the soldiers stationed around the entrance. He made an ill-advised wrong-way turn into the hospital's emergency entrance, going backwards against the traffic of ambulances and other cars. Well that wasn’t going to attract any attention, was it? Tank pulled a walkie-talkie from her belt. 

“Henderson? Pullman? Get on that car. On the double.”

Two of the soldiers in the parking garage headed towards the white Toyota which had awkwardly changed directions. 

“See? All under control,” Tank purred, putting the walkie-talkie away again. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

Steve stubbornly held onto the window frame, nails digging in. 

“You can walk back, or I will carry you,” Tank warned. 

Steve measured her expression, and let go of the window frame. 

Danny smiled faintly and carefully, rubbing the small of Steve’s back as they guided him towards the hallway. 

“Situation clear,” came the call from Tank’s walkie-talkie. 

Tank clicked one button. “Carry on, Henderson.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

A blur of movement caught Danny’s eyes as they went past the next room and next window. A big blue Silverado was racing towards the parking garage, zooming through traffic. He snorted softly, and motioned that direction. 

“Mary's back. And I thought _you_ were Hell on Wheels.” 

The Silverado blew right past the soldiers. Mary was giving them an intense stare. She raced to the top floor of the parking garage, whirling around the helix of the rising structure like a spaceship in a tight vortex. 

“She’s a menace, your kid sister,” Danny remarked. 

“Mm hmm,” Steve agreed. 

They reached Steve’s room, but instead of collapsing back in the bed, he headed for the window. Tank continued to support Steve. Danny picked up the pillow to fluff it and stack it against the headboard. He snatched the covers by the corners, snapped them straight, and folded them down on the bed again. 

“Come on, you big baby. I made it all nice for you.”

Danny turned to the window with a smile, at least until he caught the expression on Steve’s face. 

"Take it easy, Commander," Tank cautioned. 

“Mary?” McGarrett fought to get the word out. 

“Henderson, top level. We’ve got a situation,” Tank muttered into the walkie-talkie. “You. Sit. I’ll handle this.” 

“…the hell…..I’m gonna…..” Steve was rasping. 

“Steven. Stay. That’s an order.” 

Tank was out of the room and through the security door like a shot. What was going on? Danny hurried to Steve’s side. 

Mary was stalking angrily across the top of the parking garage, hands in the air, being followed by an older Asian man. Her shouting carried, the angry tone floating on the wind, even if the words themselves weren’t discernable. Danny had never seen Mary so pissed!

Steve scrambled for the Makarov from the small table, and opened the shades with a yank which bared the entire window in one snap. The blinds crashed to the floor and coiled up unevenly. Steve shoved the windows open, and tested the distance along the edge of the handgun. 

“Are you crazy?!” Danny scolded. “You might hit Mary!” 

The older man nudged Mary towards the edge of the top level of the parking garage, inches from a devastating fall to the pavement below. Mary had her hands in the air. Head held high. The expression on her face would have curdled fresh milk. The Asian man was standing by her side, dialing his cell phone. 

Steve’s phone rang. 

McGarrett snarled as he answered. “I’m going to kill you, Yun Fei.” His gravely voice scraped and scratched. So many phantoms from Steve's past were rising in his eyes, haunting his expression. 

“Now that I have your attention, Commander, I believe we are ready to begin.” 

“You have no idea the kind of shit that’s about to rain down on your head,” Steve warned him. 

“I’m not sure you understand how serious the situation is, Commander.” 

“You are a dead man,” Steve reiterated. 

“Let us be reasonable. All I want is what belongs to me," Yun Fei protested. 

Tank had made it outside and across the parking lot towards the parking garage. Her soldiers were swarming up the levels, weapons drawn. 

“Keep talking,” Steve murmured as he checked the rounds in the clip in the weapon in his hands. 

“Steve?” Danny questioned, a shiver taking his spine. 

“Protect Yu Lan,” Steve ordered. “He’s here to kill her.” 

“Commander, your sister and I. We had a very enlightening talk,” Yun Fei continued. He was slowly withdrawing a gun from his jacket pocket. 

“Now, Danny. Go,” Steve growled. 

“I’m not leaving your side,” Danny replied. 

“I know what family means to you, Commander. It is a sentiment that we share. Family is precious indeed, particularly for those of us who have so little of it.” 

“If you hurt my sister, I won’t rest until you’re dead,” Steve snarled. 

“All I want is what belongs to me,” Yun Fei stressed his point by aiming the gun in his hand at Mary’s temple. “Perhaps you would like to talk to your sister? Maybe she will be able to convince you to cooperate.” 

Danny felt the gorge rising up his throat. Steve went as cold as ice. 

“Steve?” Mary gargled out the word as the phone was held to her cheek. 

“Mar?” 

“Getting a bit tired of this shit.” 

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Steve whimpered. 

“Hate you. Hate Hawaii. Going home.”

“I hear ya.” 

“Never coming back to this godforsaken ball of shit. Ever. Again,” Mary threatened. 

Steve stifled a snort of amusement which threatened to turn into a sob. Danny slid a hand onto Steve’s side. 

“I’m sorry, Mary.”

“You wanna see me, big brother, you’re gonna have to spring for a plane ticket," Mary hissed. 

Danny yelped and recoiled with the sudden, swift, unexpected kick that Mary delivered to Yun Fei. The phone flopped away, tumbling to the pavement far below. Yun Fei was flabbergasted, but not so much that he wasn’t able to respond. Mary punched him under the chin, and grabbed for the gun in his hand. 

Tank and her soldiers were sprinting across the parking level, shouting and waving their weapons. Steve’s phone tumbled out of his hands. He was racing out the door, clawing for purchase on the walls as he went. 

Danny followed Steve as he heard several shots being fired.


	18. Prisoner Exchange

“You can let go now.” 

No one heard the words. They were spoken against a big chest, crushed to nothing more than vibrations of sound. One tiny arm fought out of the tight loop of muscles and sinew. Mary repositioned her arms around Steve’s big shoulders instead of around his thin waist. She scratched him gently on the back of the head, as one might calm an anxious wild wolf. 

“I’m okay. You can let go.”

The only response Mary received was a tighter hug. 

“You weren’t worried, were you?” 

The response this time was a wet sniffle and a mournful howl. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve. I’m not completely helpless,” Mary grumbled. “Easy, easy, whoa,” she babbled, sinking down to the pavement as the tower supporting her crumbled. “How many years did Dad spend drilling self-defense tactics into both our heads? Only from the time we could walk? I can take care of myself, big baby. Suck it up. Quit your sniveling.”

Steve gave another mournful howl, and clutched Mary close again. She fought impatiently out of the grip, drying off his face. 

“I didn’t mean it,” she sighed. 

“Mean what?” Steve whimpered, smearing a palm under his nose. 

“I don’t hate you,” Mary promised. 

Steve shrugged and shook his head, looking away in bashful shame. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. 

Danny appeared next to them, dropping a robe around Steve’s tall form. 

“Can you stand? We need to get you, and your half-naked ass, back inside,” Williams taunted lovingly. 

“Please, Danno. Take me home. Take me to the office. Don’t make me go back in there,” Steve begged. 

“Come on, big boy,” Mary chuckled, shouldering her brother into a standing position. “I’m officially breaking you out. We’re making a run for it.”

“Bad idea,” Danny protested. 

Williams endured twice the disgruntlement than usual. It was eerie how two such physically-different people could carry the exact same expression. Danny knew when the odds were stacked against him. He raised his hands in defeat. Tank was busy collecting Yun Fei and bundling him off to custody and surgery, and probably wouldn’t notice for several minutes. Mary was already steering Steve towards the big, blue Silverado, which was parked at an angle, engine idling. 

“He can’t even get up into the truck,” Danny wailed. 

“I’ll drive,” Mary grunted back. 

“The hell you will,” Danny barked, sprinting for the open door.

***

“Glad to see you up and around, Commander. Pale and shaking though you are.”

Hazel blue eyes studied brown eyes. Not so much as a twitch of a smile was visible on the Navy SEAL’s grim face.

“Do you feel faint? I would offer you my chair, but I am very attached to it.”

Yun Fei chuckled merrily as he rattled his cuffs. McGarrett raised his eyes to Danny, who stood to the older man’s left, asking without words what Danny was making of the other man’s cheerful chirps. Danny shrugged, and Steve turned his attention back to the prisoner. 

“Glad to see you dressed for the occasion,” Yun Fei added hopefully. He got nothing more than a grunt in reply. 

“Detective Williams, has the prisoner been informed of his rights?” Steve asked Danny. 

“Yes, Boss,” Danny answered casually, thumbing through the folder in his hands. He held up a signed page for display. 

“Has he asked for an attorney?” 

“Yes, sir. His attorney is on the way.”

“Our job is done here,” Steve decided. He snapped an elegant About-Face, and limped towards the door. Danny closed his folder together, and followed. 

“Commander? You cannot believe because you have me in custody, my operation is finished. You are not a naïve man,” Yun Fei offered, sitting up straighter in his chair. The bullet hole in his right shoulder had been repaired, and his broken nose had been reset, by the finest Naval and civilian doctors and nurses which Queens Medical had had on hand. Yun Fei was going to live. More’s the pity. 

“You have asked for your attorney. I can no longer question you without infringing on your civil rights,” Steve explained as he faced Yun Fei and loathed on him with every fiber of his being. 

“You do not wish to engage me in a crisp exchange of witty dialogue?” 

“Not particularly,” Steve replied through narrowed, bored eyes. 

“But you must,” Yun Fei chuckled. “Is that not the done thing?” 

There were many questions in Steve’s mind, not the least of which was why this man was so goddamned amused in the face of what most would view as a hopeless situation. 

“All these years I have watched American television shows, amazed by the heroic fantasy that your people revel in. It is invariably the same premise. When the roguish yet handsome hero finally has a chance to question his captured nemesis, both bruised and battered by their physical duel, they carry on for several minutes, talking about honor, and family, and virtue, and patriotism. Do you not wish to question me at length about the motive for my crimes?” 

“No can do,” Steve declined, hand on the door knob. 

“Are you not even going to throw a punch at me, to satisfy your animalistic need for revenge for my insult against your sister’s person?” 

“Mary covered that herself," Steve responded, staring pointedly at Yun Fei's nose. 

“You do not wish to batter me with phone books while your partner pretends he did not witness your actions?” 

“Nope. That too would be an infringement on your civil rights.”

“Nobody uses phone books anymore,” Danny added confidentially. 

“I made the correct decision after all,” Yun Fei decided proudly. He gave a sigh and waited a beat. Steve didn’t bite. He walked for the door again. “You are very shaken indeed over almost losing your sister.”

“Have a nice day, Hundan,” Steve called out, waving a set of fingers. 

“Is that your idea of a witty exchange? To call me an asshole and then leave?” Yun Fei mocked as his smile widened. 

“Hey, pal. I wouldn’t look so thrilled if I was you. Your adventure with Mary is going to add another thirty years alone to your sentence,” Danny chortled before following Steve to the door. 

“Ah, the plucky sidekick speaks, rising to defend his taciturn master.”

Steve and Danny stopped like they had hit a force field. Danny went rigid from head to toe. Steve was wincing. Steve begged Danny to heel, using his eyes alone. Danny sneered and shook his head. His mouth bunched up like an angry butt pucker. Danny wanted to obey. He really wanted to. He was two steps from the threshold, and a calm and dignified exit. They had money riding on this after all. Chin had challenged them to walk in the room and walk back out without touching the prisoner even once. Kono had ponied up $100 in Chin’s favor. Chin had unfurled a couple hundreds from his palm like magic. Steve and Danny had scraped together money from their pockets, and their desk drawers, and the watch off Steve’s wrist was thrown in to sweeten the pot. 

Steve and Danny knew it wasn’t about the money. The cousins wanted to keep them out of trouble, and to prevent a charge of police brutality from giving Yun Fei a backdoor out of this entire entanglement. Danny and Steve were determined to win this bet, because they didn’t want to see Yun Fei wriggle free. But then Yun Fei had to open his piehole, and all bets were off. 

“I almost took your daughter instead, Detective.”

Steve inhaled. Danny hissed.

“However, the Commander’s sister, I knew he must be very attached to her. He does not see her as often. She lives very far away. The distance makes him more fond of her, more forgiving of her faults. He is fond of your daughter too, but his sister, much more so.”

“You were going to kidnap Grace?” Steve clarified even as his fists clenched at his sides. 

“I needed to get your attention as fast as possible, Commander, to give my minions time to act." 

“You were gonna kidnap my Gracie?” Danny chortled in chipmunk perkiness. 

Steve recoiled as the hurricane of movement rushed past him. He watched nervously as Danny launched himself right up in Yun Fei’s face, nose to nose, blue eyes like sharpened gimlets. Yun Fei flinched in his chair almost to the point of tipping over backwards. 

“Detective Williams? Whatever you’re thinking about doing, it would be both ill-advised and illegal,” Steve cautioned. 

“Tell me again how you thought about kidnapping my daughter, chump,” Danny hissed. 

“You were my first choice, to be honest. The Commander is very attached to you. I had planned to take you, Detective, but you spent the day at your police headquarters, surrounded by too many witnesses. Alas, though you would have given me the greatest response from the Commander, it would have been too time-consuming and messy to have taken you prisoner to use as leverage.”

“Keep talking, pal. I’m really starting to warm up to you,” Danny growled. 

“Your daughter would have been easier to take, even easier than the Commander’s sister. But the sister I knew would engender a greater emotional disturbance in the Commander. I needed to keep his attention long enough.” 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Minions. We got that part. Nobody calls their people minions anymore either," Danny mocked. 

“Detective Williams, we need to go,” Steve whispered dryly. Danny inched closer to Yun Fei, and flashed a sharp set of teeth to match his angry eyes. 

“I hope you enjoy your stay here. We’re going to do everything we can to make you as uncomfortable as possible,” Danny promised. 

“I know my rights, Detective. I’ll be out of here in no time.” 

Danny straightened up, staring down at the prisoner. He pulled a tiny silver pip from his pocket, and waved it under the man’s nose. 

“You must charge me with a crime within forty-eight hours. I know very well how your legal system works.”

Danny slipped the handcuff key onto his tongue, drew it into his mouth, and swallowed loudly. When he was done, he extended his tongue, let Yun Fei examine his empty mouth, and then cackled wickedly as he hurried away. 

“Would you like a bottle of water? A good book? Maybe a bit of soft music?” Steve wondered. 

“Forty-eight hours, Commander.” 

Steve stared at where his watch should have been, and tapped his hairy forearm with one fingertip. He held the back of his wrist to his ear, and gave a puzzled frown. 

“Seems to have stopped,” Steve commented. He pulled the door closed with a satisfied smirk. 

Danny waited mere steps from the door. He was frowning. Steve held out a hand, palm up, fingers wiggling. 

“Gimme the key back." 

“Can’t,” Danny rasped, rubbing his chest and groaning softly. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I fucking swallowed it, you moron,” Danny grumbled. 

“For reals?” Steve’s eyes got wide. He held his wounded abdomen and winced as he giggled playfully. 

“It’s not funny, Steven," Danny growled. 

Steve dragged Danny along, holding onto the wall for support.


	19. Melancholy

Chin and Kono were wondering why Steve was chuckling as he and Danny came out of the long corridor which led away from the interrogation rooms. Williams was rubbing his chest and stomach as if he had heartburn. McGarrett patted him hard on the back several times. 

“You wanna go see Dr. Fran?” 

“No. I’m fine,” Danny growled. 

“Then bring me up to speed on this son of a bitch as fast as you can. We have to move to stop him.”

Everyone focused on the big monitors on the wall. 

“The first thing we need to do is double the watch on Yu Lan. With Yun Fei in custody, his ‘minions’ quote-unquote might try to take Yu Lan out while she’s not able to defend herself,” Steve ordered. Danny nodded in agreement, and pulled out his phone to contact the hospital. 

“We’ve alerted every state and local emergency agency, and we’ve also notified the Mainland, to be on the lookout for anything suspicious,” Chin began, pulling up pictures of Yu Lan, Yun Fei, and the dissent student attacker from Moscow, Sean Dion.

“I spoke with Jade Kalani,” Kono revealed, pulling up the young woman’s picture as well. “She’s waiting in your office for you, Boss. I thought you’d want to hear what she has to say in person.” 

“Good. Where’s Morozova?” Steve asked. 

“She and I left at the same time,” Danny replied with a shrug, tucking away his phone again. “Frosty was headed to the airport to pick up the police officer that her boss sent over to help her. Haven’t heard a thing from her since.”

“How did it go with the hospital?” Steve asked. 

“Dr. Fran said if you don’t get your butt back over there, she’s going to come to the office, and bag you like a stray cat. I told her I would help. She also said that Tank has doubled the security watch on Yu Lan, because you both are apparently the same kind of paranoid,” Danny grinned. 

“Tank will call if she needs us. Did Morozova have a chance to alert Dima to what we think is happening? What do we think is happening?” Steve wondered. 

“It’s actually Captain Reznikov’s theory is that Yun Fei was testing here in Hawaii and in Moscow to see if he can use Cloud 9 as a bio-weapon to cause fear and panic,” Chin replied. “Based on Yun Fei’s cheerful babbling, we have to assume Reznikov is on the right track.” 

“Oh, you were listening in?” Danny chuckled.

“Had to know if I needed to intervene to save the prisoner from harm or not,” Chin replied. He slipped some money to Danny, and gave Steve back his watch.

“The student attack in Moscow that you were talking about on the way to HQ?” Steve asked Danny. Danny nodded quickly. Steve watched his partner pocketing the money while he pulled his watch back on his wrist. 

“Yes. It seems like Yun Fei started out testing Cloud 9 on teens and hard-core junkies, individuals who are easy to lure with a new drug. Then he worked his way up to small groups of people, as with the Lomonosov Incident,” Danny answered, poking buttons to toss a couple pictures up on the big monitors. 

“Does he plan to move up the food chain? Try this on a large scale, induce mass panic and chaos in a larger setting?” Steve asked. 

“We can’t take the risk of not assuming that’s his game plan. But we have not found a connection between Yun Fei and Sean Dion. Or anything substantial which ties Yun Fei directly to the distribution or manufacturing of the drug itself,” Chin lamented. 

“Max hasn’t found a chemical link between Yun Fei’s other pharmaceuticals and Cloud 9?” Steve asked. 

“No.”

“What’s the student’s name again?” Steve frowned. 

“Sean Dion,” Danny answered. 

“Say that again?” Steve puzzled.

“Sean Dion.” 

“Shandian,” Steve corrected. “ ‘Lightning’. It’s another alias. Like Hungry Ghost and Cloud Pilot. Keep digging. There has to be a connection between them,” Steve knew, heading towards his office where a young woman waited. McGarrett paused on the threshold when she rose up to attention and gaped openly at him with bright and curious eyes. 

“I saw you on the news,” Jade Kalani beamed. “What are you? Some kind of one-man kick-ass squad? Rambo’s little cousin?” 

“You weren’t seeing me at my best,” McGarrett admitted. The college student chuckled and bounced her head. 

“I dunno, man. The view was pretty good from where I was sitting.” 

“Did you come here to share your opinion on my naked ass, or do you have something that will help us with this case?” Steve remarked grimly. His seriousness made the young woman straighten up. 

“I don’t know what Sean told you, but he’s not my cousin. He’s not my second cousin. We’re not even related.” 

“Then why would he list you as his next of kin on his college records?” Kono asked. 

“He was in my creative writing class. He had a big crush on me. I know how that sounds, but I’m not being a diva. He sat two rows away behind diagonally, and spent a lot of class time staring at me. That’s our only connection.” 

Steve and Kono exchanged a look, and Steve continued. 

“You’re cute. It’s not completely unbelievable that someone might have a crush on you. Probably happens now and again. What made Sean stand out in your mind from almost two years ago?” Steve asked. 

“Why is he so memorable?” Kono wondered.

“Aside from the staring? His fiction was like….I dunno, man….” Jade laughed. “Secret ninja squads under the control of a mystic shogun with a magic blade. Outcast teens with amazing supernatural powers who band together to save the world from certain destruction. That kind of crap. The kind of stuff outcast teens have wet dreams about. It was fun. A great read. He is a good writer. Really imaginative, or so I thought.” 

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “Go on.” 

“He asked me out a couple times. I said no. He persisted, and I didn’t want to seem like a complete bitch, so I said yes. To be honest, I didn’t want to wind up as a statistic, one of those women in the news who gets her throat slashed for saying no to the wrong weirdo. So I said yes. Let’s get some coffee. In public. With lots of witnesses.”

“You didn’t trust him enough to be alone with him?” Kono understood. 

“You ever met a guy who gives you the willies for no apparent reason?” 

“More often than not,” Kono mused. Both of them looked at Steve, whose eyes got wide for a second. 

“What?” he asked, shoulders rounding. Kono patted his shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t understand, Boss.”

“You don’t think I’ve ever had a nervous date with a twitchy woman who made me want to change my name and join a secret monastery in the Himalayas?” Steve asked. “Guess again,” he chortled. 

“It’s different for guys. You aren’t a hundred pounds dripping wet, or portable when unconscious,” Jade interjected. 

“What did Sean do to weird you out so badly?” Steve asked. 

“I asked him about his stories.”

“Secret ninja cults under the sway of mystic shoguns?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Outcast teens with supernatural powers?”

“Yeah.” 

“And?” 

“He said it was for real.” 

“Ah.” 

“Ooooo-kaaaaay.” 

Steve and Kono chorused in unison, and exchanged another look.

“Seriously. Dude said it was real. I’m not kidding,” Jade insisted. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any of his fiction tucked away somewhere, would you? Old class notes?” Steve asked hopefully. 

“Shit, yeah. I’m a packrat. I keep all my class notes and papers on my hard drive. We exchanged class stories through email because it cuts down on paper waste.”

“Kono, escort Ms. Kalani back to her dorm to get her hard drive,” Steve said. 

“Yeah, Boss.” 

“We also need to know if Sean had any friends while he was here, someone he hung out with, someone who also believed in ninja armies?” Steve asked Jade. 

“Sorry, but he was the epitome of the mysterious loner. I don’t think he had any friends, except imaginary ones,” Jade smiled faintly. “Except that….you know, after it was all said and done and he left school, I had a weird thought about him.”

“What’s that?” Kono wondered. 

“What if it wasn’t about liking me?” Jade murmured, ducking her head down. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked. 

“My parents were killed when I was a teen. I lived with my great aunt, until she passed away right before I started college. It’s just me, you know? I wondered if…. I wondered if Sean was recruiting me?” Jade shrugged. 

Steve nodded in reply. Kono could see the wheels turning in McGarrett’s head. 

"You got any special superpowers we should know about?" Steve asked. 

"No, sir," Jade chuckled. 

"Haven't been bitten by any spiders, or dunked in radio-active waste, or.....?"

"No, sir." 

"I think you're safe from Sean. But keep your eyes open. If you see anything weird, call us. Night or day."

"Thanks," Jade blushed. 

“You two go get Sean’s stories, and hurry back,” Steve said to Kono, giving her a tiny bump in the shoulder. “Be careful.” 

“Will do, Boss,” Kono nodded. She was happy to note that Steve was digging under his shirt, rubbing the main shell on the protection necklace she had given him at the hospital. They headed back into the common area of the team office. 

“Chin, keep digging into Sean Dion and Yun Fei. There’s a connection there somewhere. We have to find it,” Steve commanded, leaning on the table top of a moment with both palms. 

“You okay?” Danny asked, right against his side, hand in the middle of Steve’s back. 

“Little woozy,” Steve admitted softly. “Fine, fine, I’m okay,” he immediately added, straightening back up. Danny was already lifting the car keys out of Steve’s grip. 

“These walls are paper thin, you know. I heard what Ms. Kalani said about mystic shoguns and magic knives,” Danny muttered. “We’re headed back to the hospital.” 

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, rubbing his eyes and tracing his fingertips up his forehead, into his hairline. 

“You're fine. That's fine. Okay fine. Whatever. Let’s swing by your house and pick up Mary.” 

“Why?” 

“I think she’s safer with you than she is at home alone,” Danny replied on the way out the office doors. Steve waved to Chin, and headed out behind Danny, hanging onto the railing as he went down the steps. Danny stopped at the landing, and put out an arm. “Okay. You keep doing that, and I’m leaving you with Dr. Fran.” 

“I’m fine,” Steve summoned an annoyed sigh. He leaned on Danny anyway. 

Once they were out in the parking lot, headed towards the Silverado, Steve paused for a second and scanned around. 

“Your baby is in the shop still?” he asked. 

“Still?” Danny chortled. “It’s gonna take weeks to fix her. And you, buddy, you’re to blame for what happened.” 

“How am I to blame? You need a boost?” Steve teased across the front seat as Danny opened the driver’s door, and he opened the passenger door, and they both scrambled inside with the same lack of grace and fluidity. 

“Fuck you, you ginormous ass,” Danny blurted, scooting the seat forward. 

Steve rested back in the seat, rolled down the window, and buckled himself in. Danny started off, pulling slowly out of the parking lot and onto the street. 

“You know who makes the best soldiers, Danno?” Steve whispered quietly, thoughtfully. There was something about his tone which made Danny pause at the stoplight instead of running right through. 

“Who?” Danny wondered. 

“Orphans. People who have family, but they aren’t close. Or people who have shit to prove.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Danny agreed grimly. 

Steve hummed pensively, putting an arm between his chest and the seatbelt which was digging into him. Danny gave him plenty of time and space. Steve stared out the window at the rolling scenery, and closed his eyes. He leaned back further in his seat. 

“Spent half my life proving I was good enough, you know? To myself. To my father. To my mother, up in Heaven, staring down at me. Back when I thought she was dead, and I didn't have any idea she was a CIA ghost with monumental delusions of grandeur.” 

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Danny nodded. “No matter what I did, I know Mom loves me, but man, it hurts to have your every failure compared to the accomplishments of your extremely-successful, super-rich, super smart, taller, handsomer, and let’s not forget, younger brother.” 

“Extremely what?” Steve pouted, reaching over to push the side of Danny’s head lazily. “My hairy ass.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“In what world is Matty more successful than you?” Steve asked. “Or smarter? Or more handsome? I disagree. Vehemently.” 

“Now that he’s gone,” Danny gulped. He sighed sadly. “Now that he’s gone, it’s like he’s this exalted saint, a martyr, an angel. That’s what Matty has become for Mom. A guardian angel watching over us from above.” 

“Mm hmm,” Steve murmured. He went from pushing and shoving Danny’s head to curling their fingers together. “Funny how death kinda wipes away someone’s sins, isn’t it? Like Matty pulled a lot of shit on you. A lot of shit. He made you part of his mess. Who does that to their brother, you know?” 

“I know,” Danny acknowledged. “He was a major dick.” 

“Yes. Your brother was a major dick,” Steve agreed eagerly. “And you know, I know your mom wants to make you feel like Matty was such a success, but when you think about it, it was all lies, man. The money? The largess? The bigger than life guy who strutted around, showing off. That was all lies to cover up what he was really doing. Involving you in his underworld dealings, because he couldn’t take the heat all on his own. But you, who you are, the kind of man you are, the kind of cop you are?”

“Stop. I’ll blush,” Danny purred with a small laugh. 

“You are ten times the man Matty could ever hope to be,” Steve gushed. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Danny beamed. 

"Your brother was a dickhead. You hear me?" 

"I hear you," Danny laughed. 

“He almost got you killed. I'll never forgive him for that, dead or alive. I'm sorry. I know you love Matty. I don’t mean to speak ill of him,” Steve shrugged one shoulder, fighting a thin smile. 

“No. It’s all right. I love my brother, but he was never perfect. Like your dad.” 

“Like my dad,” Steve agreed slowly. He stared out the window again. “I love my dad. I loved him like no one else. He was everything to me. And I could never…..” Steve stopped, gulped loudly, and lifted his chin. “I was never enough. Could never be enough. Could never do enough. Could never….”

Steve’s voice trailed off. Danny didn’t dare poke or prod him. He waited, fingers circled through Steve’s fingers. 

“I couldn’t ever do enough to make him proud of him. And then at the end, I failed him, I failed him big, Danno, as bad as you can ever fail someone. I couldn’t save him. I never felt so powerless. I felt like, you know, like I let him down, yet again.”

“You did not let your father down,” Danny soothed. 

“Like hell I didn't. And Mary…..” Steve leaned his head against the open window, and rubbed his temple with the metal frame. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Mary because of me.” 

“So why are you sending her back to L.A.? Hawaii is her home. Why don’t you keep her here, where she’ll be safe?” Danny wondered. 

“Because she’s not safe anywhere near me.” 

“Now you sound like your dad,” Danny scolded. 

“Maybe. But I want Mary to be safe. She’s not going to be safe near me. Not when every time some criminal with a beef with me goes gunning for her. At least if she’s on the mainland, they’re going to have to buy a plane ticket first. If Mary is in L.A., she’s not going to have that happening every other week,” Steve protested. 

“You ever thought of convincing her to join the force?” Danny wondered. 

Steve gave Danny a look from the depths of Hell, brows bushy with discontent. 

“What? I've got news for you, big brother. Mary can handle herself. She’s good in emergency situations. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. Why don’t you want to encourage her to follow the path coded on her DNA?” 

“Yeah, sure. I encourage Mary to join the police force, and then I spend the rest of my life, siting up awake every night, scared to death,” Steve scoffed. 

“Because you’re afraid she’ll get hurt? Life is pain, Steve. We all get hurt.” 

“No.”

“No, what?” 

“I’m not afraid of Mary getting hurt. I know she can handle herself. I’m afraid my dad would dig himself up, and come kick my ass six ways from Sunday if I let Mary join the police force, that’s what,” Steve muttered. “No. I’m putting Mary back on a plane to the Mainland where she’ll be safe. With Joanie, and Aunt Deb, and I don’t have to worry she’ll get hurt because of me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, you know?” 

“I know,” Steve mumbled unconvincingly. 

“Hawaii is her home. You should encourage her to stay here,” Danny encouraged. 

“No. L.A. has been her home since she was a little kid. Hawaii is just the place she was born.” 

“But I know you’d like to have her here. I know how much you'd like a big family around you. Kids everywhere. A bunch of cats. Maybe even a couple dogs.” 

“I would like a big family, but it’s not my choice,” Steve whispered. "Sometimes you don't get what you want, no matter how much you want it." 

“You know, that might be the most introspective thing you’ve ever said to me ever, in the history of ever,” Danny murmured as they pulled into the parking garage structure they had left only a few hours before. The sun was starting to sink into the sky. Storm clouds were scouring the tops of the mountains in the distance. 

Danny’s words earned a comfortable smile from Steve. They sat for a moment on the top of the parking garage, caught between the falling rays of the sun, and the lights of the HPD CSI team working the crime scene where Mary had almost been shot. Steve’s smile faded as his haunted eyes crossed over the team at work. A wicked cold breeze teased through the car and sent a shiver through them both.

"Dr. Fran said you could have kids in vitro, you know. It's not entirely impossible that you could be a father," Danny ventured. 

Steve's eyes slowly came back to Danny. The failing light moved over his face. Steve slowly looked away. 

"Maybe it's not meant to be," Steve rasped. 

"Says who?" 

"I'm okay, Danny. It's okay." 

"What's okay? Giving up without even trying?"

"Maybe it's better this way."

"You can't mean that." 

"What if I'd suck as a father? What if I turned out to be the same kind of aloof son of a bitch my dad was, someone who couldn't even tell me he loved me, not until he had a gun to his head, and he knew he was going to die? I don't want to bring someone into this world, and make their life suck from here to eternity."

"You don't know you would," Danny whined.

"I don't have to be a dad." 

"But you'd be an awesome dad." 

"How would you know? I'm a totalitarian boss. I'm a bastard as a commander. I'm a control freak in our relationship. I'm a martinet in the best of situations. I would suck as a father, and we both know it."

"Gracie thinks you're awesome. So does Charlie. Joanie, she thinks you're amazing too. And the Aloha Girls? Steve, you're like a rock star with them." 

"It's okay if I'm never a father. I'm happy being Uncle Steve. That's enough for me. I don't have to be a dad too." 

Danny pulled Steve's hand over to his chest, and held on tight. 

"Look at me," Danny pleaded. 

"What?" Steve whispered, cautiously sharing a gaze with Danny. 

"Steven J. McGarrett, I want to have your baby." 

Danny's declaration earned a grin and a nervous giggle. 

"Don't laugh at me. I'm serious, you asshole. I want to make little baby McGarretts with you. I want a house full of them. I want that, like nothing else." 

"Fucking idiot," Steve muttered, attempting to frown. "We've got a case to solve. Can we go now?" 

"Promise me we'll at least follow-through with this," Danny pleaded. 

"I'm not promising you nothing. I think you've lost your mind," Steve growled, taking his hand away slowly. 

"Ready to go inside?” Danny asked, opening the door. 

“Only if you promise I get to go home tonight,” Steve replied. He slid cautiously out of the truck.


	20. Paranoia

An ill wind preceded the coming thunderstorm. A gray shroud glided overhead in tendrils and nebulae, rolling like an octopus close to the ocean floor. An advance guard of cold droplets threw themselves on Danny and Steve’s heads as the two men made their way across the pavement towards the semi-circle of the emergency room entrance. 

Danny was thinking wryly about the second time they met. Not the first time. Not in the garage by the corpse of John McGarrett’s Marquis, that pissing contest with their metaphoric cocks out pointed at the other, both men too desperate to prove whose was bigger. No, Danny was thinking about the second time they met. Steve McGarrett, cocky asshole, soaking wet from a sudden downpour, standing in Danny’s rat-hole apartment, looking like sex and candy, acting like he owned the whole of Hawaii and everyone on it. _‘I’m making you my partner.’_ At least the rain had been a good omen that day.

They stepped across the threshold, both shivering. One step inside, and McGarrett came to a screeching halt. He went for the Makarov, right fingers gripping the handle tight as he put his left arm out over Danny’s chest, nearly catching him in the chin. 

“What the actual fuck?” Danny whispered, pushing the big forearm out of his face. Then he saw what had stopped Steve short. 

Every surface in sight was covered with a fine layer of white dust. Doors hung open. Curtains wavered in unseen drafts. Papers fluttered. There wasn’t a single person in sight, or a single sound to be heard, as far up and down the two corridors as they could see. 

“We’re too late,” Steve grimaced. 

“But I spoke to Dr. Fran not twenty minutes ago, and everything was fine,” Danny stressed as he pulled his weapon and followed Steve across the silent emergency room.

Steve reached for the ceiling and used the butt of his weapon to slide the overhead vent closed. He began to hunt around for every other vent, but there were too many, he could tell right away. Meanwhile, he lifted his teeshirt to cover his mouth and nose. Danny popped open his dress shirt, and lifted the wife-beater beneath, covering his mouth and nose as well. 

Steve straightened, ears pricking. He crept around the counter of the nurses’ station, eyes scanning, heart pounding. Danny spotted what had caught his friend’s attention. A small hand stretched out on the floor which withdrew as their steps approached. McGarrett got down on his haunches, and peered underneath the waist-high surface. A young hospital attendant leapt out at Steve, clasping arms and legs around him. Danny recoiled and leveled his gun at her. Steve wrapped his arms around the young woman, pulling her closer, standing up slowly with her in his grasp. 

“Shh. Shh.”

“We’ve got to hide,” she stammered, tears streaming down her face. Steve stroked her curly hair, hiding her face in his shoulder. 

“Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

“The dust. The dust was falling, and everyone was running. There were too many of them. People everywhere,” the attendant panted, shaking violently as Steve hauled her along. 

“Where is everyone?” Steve demanded. He was pulling her towards the nearest examining room. Danny followed, eyes everywhere at once. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this kid was familiar from somewhere. “Calm down. You’re safe. It’s going to be all right.”

“They’re everywhere. They’re everywhere,” she whispered frantically.

“Who is?” 

“The vampires,” she confided. Her dazed-out eyes were darting left and right and all around to every shadowy corner.

“Listen to me. There are no vampires here,” Steve promised. “It’s the dust. It’s making you see things. You’re gonna be fine, babe.” 

“ ‘Kay,” she whispered, shaking and trembling as Steve dug through the drawers, and pulled out a pen light. 

“You’ve been dosed with an opiate-based hallucinogenic drug, and it’s going to make you see undead things. Just keep telling yourself it’s all a bad dream,” Steve urged, flicking the light through her dazed eyes. 

“ ‘Kay,” she whispered again.

“No matter what you see, it’s not real,” Steve promised. 

“ ‘Kay.” 

“I’m gonna…..” Steve motioned her towards the small sink, turning on the water and making it run warm by adjusting the two handles. “Wash your face, get the water up your nose, in your mouth, in your ears. Do you understand?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. She dunked her head, her curly hair falling flat against her neck and to the side. Steve hunted around for a towel, giving it to the attendant. He dunked his own head under, briskly rubbing his face and neck and arms as quickly as he could. He was grabbing Danny next, shoving him under the running water. 

“How long ago did the dust start falling?” Danny asked, batting away Steve’s pushy hands before dunking himself under the water. 

“I don’t know. A few minutes,” the attendant quivered. She put a hand on Steve’s arm. “Dr. Fran. The minute the shit hit the fan, she started sending everyone down to the fallout shelter.”

“That’s good. That’s great,” Steve smiled, herding them towards the door. 

“Where are we going?” the attendant pleaded. 

“You’re going to get out of this place, right out the front door. Danny and I are going to make sure Dr. Fran is okay.”

“But she’s not down there,” the attendant whimpered frantically. “She was sending everyone else downstairs, but she went back up.” 

“Why?” Steve demanded. 

“TJ.”

“Her office,” Steve surmised. The attendant nodded quickly, scrubbing a hand under her button nose. “Okay. You don’t want to stay here, do you? You need to get out of here then. Right out through that door.”

“Alone?” she stuttered, freezing stiff with fear. 

“The rain will help wash away the rest of the drug,” Steve promised. 

“But they’re out there. They’ll find me. They…they’ll find me. The vampires are out there.” 

“Okay then. Danny is going to take you downstairs to the fallout shelter with everyone else,” Steve decided. 

“No, Danny isn’t,” his partner muttered, rising up to his feet and peering out the door of the examining room.

“Yes, Danny fucking is, because Danny’s job is to fucking do what I fucking tell him to do. Any questions?” Steve growled. They got nose to nose, lifting lips in imitation of nasty snarls. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“What’s your question?” 

“Where’s the fallout shelter?” 

“In the lowest sub-basement,” Steve answered. “You’re going to have to walk several flights. You can’t take the elevators. You have to take the stairs. Wait. You’re gonna need these as well.” 

Steve hunted through several small cabinets until he found what he wanted. He shoved two oxygen masks and small portable tanks at them. Danny raised a brow, but Steve was already twisting the strap of the tank around Danny’s shoulder. 

“Don’t take it off. You’ve got a couple hours of oxygen here at least. Breathe normally.”

Danny nodded in reply, letting Steve wrap the unfamiliar mask on his face, while fighting away mental images of sticky pale face-suckers. Steve was helping adjust the mask and tank on the young attendant, who coughed up a tiny smile. 

“It’s like you do this every day,” she commented. 

“Welcome to my world,” Steve grinned back, snapping her mask back into place. 

“Hey,” Danny protested as Steve turned to grab a tank and a mask. There were four others in the cabinet. Steve shoved two at Danny and kept two for himself. 

“What?” Steve mumbled through the mask. Danny lifted his own face-hugger and Steve’s as well. He bounced his lips roughly off of McGarrett’s mouth, delighting in Steve's surprised blink-reaction. Danny smirked and dropped Steve’s mask back into place. 

“Be careful, asshole.”

“Be careful yourself,” Steve answered, shoving them out the door of the examining room. They rolled quickly down the hallway, Steve barking at their heels, pointing his Makarov into every possible corner and crevice. That was when they spotted the people outside the front entrance. Steve and Danny tucked their guns away. 

“Mudderfudder,” Danny muttered. "Now what?" 

Steve was waving his arms around, motioning them not to open the double glass entrance. The father was carrying a small boy against his chest, eyes frantic. A mother and teen followed on their heels, stopping at their backs, and peering around the father. 

“Don’t come in!” Steve lifted his mask and shouted loudly.

“He needs a doctor!” 

“Don’t come in!” Steve repeated.

The father frowned hatefully at Steve, and kicked his way through the double entrance anyway. 

“This entire ER has been contaminated with a bio-chemical which could cause you to overdose and die. Turn the fuck around and get out of here, right now,” Steve ordered, his voice harsh and brutal, his eyes to match. 

“My son needs a doctor!”

“You take one more step, pal, and you’re going to need a doctor,” Steve warned, pulling the Makarov as a last resort. The father stopped again, eyes bulging.

The mother and the teen walked right past because they hadn't seen the weapon Steve was pointing. Danny stepped to Steve’s left to stop them, but the attendant was backing away in horror. She pulled off her mask, let out a terrible scream, and hurled herself at break-neck speed away into the corridor. The father and Steve were squaring off, face to face, in spite of the weapon in Steve’s hands. Danny gaped at the shadows streaking towards the hospital entrance. Moving in a rolling wave like dark ocean water were scores and scores of lithe bodies swathed entirely in black. 

“Steve?” Danny whispered unsurely, pointing. 

Steve peered over the father’s shoulder, and began muttering obscenities. He yanked the man into the entrance, shoving him out of the way. The doors closed in the nick of time. A literal wave of shiny silver objects attached themselves to the glass. Web-like cracks snaked through the shimmering surface. Steve focused his eyes on one particular shining silver star which could have been buried in the middle of his forehead if the doors hadn’t closed when they had. 

“What in the….” Danny howled. 

Steve fired at the black box above the glass doors, blasting wires and sparks out of the mechanism. Then Steve stuffed his Makarov into his pants, grabbed Danny with one arm, and the father and child with the other. The mother and teen scrambled up to their feet and raced after McGarrett and company as the black-clad ghosts started pulling on the emergency room double doors. 

A pleasant surprise awaited them. The attendant was waiting by the entrance to the lower levels, panting and freaking out, but holding the door open. Steve literally shoved the family of four down the stairs, and then faced the attendant. 

“Do not open this door for anyone,” McGarrett ordered, giving her his two spare tanks and the holster belt off his waist. “Wrap this around the handles and tie it as tight as you can.” 

“Yes, sir,” the attendant stammered. 

"What's your name?" Steve asked quickly.

"Angel," she beamed. 

"You're gonna be fine, okay, Angel? You're gonna be fine." 

"Promise?" she sniffed. 

"I promise. Do not open this door for anyone except me," Steve ordered as he stuffed her through the stairway door before slamming it closed. 

“Whatever you’re gonna do, partner,” Danny said, checking the clip in his gun. 

“Going up,” Steve replied, taking Danny’s arm and pulling him at a run towards the next stairwell. 

“Is it possible that we’re having the same hallucination?” Danny wondered, taking off his mask when he saw Steve sliding the tank off his own back. 

“No,” Steve told him plainly. "Put your fucking mask back on," Steve scowled.

Danny had no idea what Steve was up to, and so he watched dumbfounded. Steve was adjusting a knob and his tank began to hiss. Then he was tucking the tiny tank into the handles of the stairwell door just as the pitter-patter of sock feet found them. Almond brown eyes filled the glass. The handles began to shake. Danny finally figured out what Steve might be planning. 

“Go!” Steve ordered, aiming his Makarov as the handles rattled like an angry poltergeist was trying to get through the doors.

Danny grabbed Steve by the collar and hauled him bodily up the stairs. When they were at least two flights up, Danny leaned down over the railing and got off two quick shots. The repercussion of sound knocked them into the door they had intended to exit. Flames were licking their backs as they scrambled through the door and slammed it behind. 

They emerged into another silent and eerie floor. Danny stuffed his mask over Steve’s face as they slid down to the floor and crawled along. Fire alarms were going off in succession down below. 

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea?” Danny asked, borrowing the mask back from Steve as McGarrett raised up and ran a hand on the wall, coming away with white dust on his hands. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Steve muttered, clawing and scratching the dust away from his skin. 

Danny guided them towards the nearest bathroom. They plunged through the door. Danny pushed Steve to the sink, made him wash his arms and his face again. Danny splashed water over his own features, as Steve stared around, popped open the small window, and leaned out for a deep breath. 

“I think it’s safe to assume the whole hospital has been dosed with Cloud 9,” Danny remarked grimly. 

"We need to contact Chin and Kono, and warn them to stay away," Steve mumbled, fighting to pull his phone out. 

"Hello?" Chin asked, out of breath and shaking. 

"Chin?!" 

"Little busy, Boss!" Chin barked. 

"Emergency at Queens Medical!" Danny called out. "Fucking ninjas everywhere, man. The whole place has been dosed."

"Yeah, poor you," Chin remarked. Steve and Danny exchanged a confused look. "I've got simultaneous calls coming in from all over the island. The hospitals, the airports, the schools. The whole place is going down in flames! Get your asses back here!" 

"WE'RE WORKING ON IT!" Steve and Danny chorused as one.

"Where's Kono?" Steve added. 

"She's holed-up at the university, fighting off a ninja army of her own. She no more than got Jade Kalani back before all hell broke loose," Chin growled. "I have to go! I'll call you back." 

The line disconnected abruptly. 

"Sound like he's got his hands full," Danny murmured. 

"He's gonna punch us both right in the face when we get back," Steve warned. 

"Yeah, he might," Danny agreed. 

"For the moment, we've got bigger problems." 

"Bigger problems than an angry Chin Ho Kelly?" Danny asked in disbelief. 

"This is only the third floor,” Steve answered. 

“Yeah, I know,” Danny nodded. “We’re going to need a different stairwell to get up to five.” 

“We need to make sure Tank and Yu Lan are all right. We’ll swing through the security wing, and then use the far stairwell to get to Dr. Fran and TJ,” Steve decided. He took Danny’s arm as Williams mentally girded his loins and made ready to break for the hallway. 

“What?” 

“We have to talk.” 

“Now?” Danny demanded spastically. 

“You know what my worst nightmare is.”

“And?” 

“Whatever you start seeing, you gotta know, I’m here, I’m real, and whatever you see, it’s not real, okay?” 

“I’m not hallucinating, Steve.” 

“Just saying,” Steve pined. 

“Okay. I’ll do my best to keep the panic to a minimum when and if it starts happening. Can we go now?” Danny growled. 

"Duck," Steve hissed. 

A form shuffled past the doorway, followed by several more. A wave of darkness moved across the tiles. Danny and Steve crouched down, waiting for the feet to pass. And then they heard the scream in the distance. 

“Tommy?! Where are you? Tommy?” 

“Oh fuck,” Steve gulped. He was on his feet in a second. 

“Who’s Tommy?” Danny wondered. 

“Tommy?!” 

Steve was out the door before Danny could stop him, kicking, shooting, punching his way through the crowd of black-clad forms. Danny took out as many as he could shoot, bodies falling left and right, dodging fists and feet which struck like lightning but faded like mist. Steve made it through the fray, following the sound of the desperate screams. 

“Dr. Fran?” Steve called out. He turned around, and fired twice over Danny’s head, taking out two shadows his partner hadn’t even felt or sensed were there. Danny sidestepped around thrashing limbs, getting right up against Steve’s back. 

“Tommy…..” Dr. Fran howled in agony. 

They found her in the room at the end of the hall, throwing around bandages and bedsheets. Shoving heavy furniture aside like it was nothing. 

“I can’t find him. I can’t find him,” Dr. Fran cried frantically. 

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed. He put away his gun, and took the kind doctor into his arms. 

“I can hear him calling for me, and he’s hurt, and he’s dying, and I can’t find him,” Dr. Fran cried. 

“It’s not real,” Steve promised, sinking down with her to his knees. “Look at me. Look at my face. Tommy isn’t here. Tommy’s dead, Dr. Fran. He’s not here. He’s buried at the Punchbowl. I’ve seen his grave.”

“But I can hear him. I can hear him crying. Don’t lie to me. Tommy’s not dead. Where’s my son?” she begged desperately. Steve was fighting back tears for her.

"Tommy's not here, Dr. Fran," Steve promised. 

“Oh fuck,” Danny mumbled. He scrambled for the sink, wetting any fabric he could find, dragging it dripping to Steve. McGarrett began soaking Dr. Fran’s face and hair, washing off her arms. Even the severe dousing couldn't seem to break the spell on her though.

“I have to find Tommy. I have to find my son. I have to… He needs me. He’s hurt, and he needs me. He needs his mom. I have to find him,” Dr. Fran stammered. 

“We’ve got to get her somewhere safe to ride this out,” Steve said. Danny helped Steve haul Dr. Fran to her feet, and guide her out the door. They both froze when they found the hallway was entirely empty. 

“Where….” Danny gasped, afraid to take another step. 

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Let’s move,” Steve ordered, holding Dr. Fran up with one arm and pulling out the Makarov with the other. Danny and he did an awkward dance down the stretch of corridor, checking every doorway and crevice as they moved along.


	21. Unguarded Thoughts

When Steve and Danny clambered up the stairs to the security wing on the third floor, the door opened slowly into pitch darkness. Bare rays from the emergency light in the stairwell glinted off gun barrels, and silhouetted the faceless, camo-clad shapes moving in the portal. Danny tensed when Steve caught his breath as if in pain. Danny gazed down. One of the soldiers had stuck a rifle barrel directly between Steve’s legs. Out of protective reflex, McGarrett rested a palm on the barrel. Danny covered his own crotch out of concern. 

The tattoo of heavy combat boots approached with an air of authority. Steve maneuvered Dr. Fran protectively behind himself. He squared his shoulders, and did his best to ignore the gun barrel between his thighs. A hand snaked out and snatched away the borrowed Makarov. Another camo-covered creature stole Danny’s weapon too. Out of the darkness came a question. 

“What is Kiri-kin-tha’s First Law of Metaphysics?” 

Steve fought with a faint smile. Danny recognized Tank’s voice even before she appeared in the meager light, shoving soldiers aside and personally lowering the gun away from Steve’s body. McGarrett composed himself and answered. 

“Nothing unreal exists.” 

“It’s McGarrett,” Tank decided. 

“He could be a hallucination, Captain,” the solider warned, aiming his weapon at Steve’s crotch once more. 

“You point that thing at my dick again, and I’m’a stick it up your ass sideways,” McGarrett rasped as he shoved the rifle away. Tank was chuckling now. 

“Back off, Ensign. He’s not an illusion, and he's not kidding you.” 

The soldiers lowered their weapons, almost disappointed that it wasn’t a threat. Tank pulled Dr. Fran between Steve and Danny, lacing an arm around her waist and tugging gently. 

“Take off your clothes, leave them outside the door, and then you can come in. Go straight into that room over there. Hose yourselves off, and put on clean clothes. Do it quickly. We don’t have much time,” Tank ordered. She guided Dr. Fran towards a different room, where nurses peeked out, and young, sick patients were hiding together in beds crammed next to each other. 

Steve and Danny wasted no time in following Tank’s orders, stripping down under the watchful gaze of the waiting soldiers. Both men quick-stepped into the room across the hall, and both got under the make-shift shower which had been rigged up in the bathroom. From smoke and witchcraft, Danny imagined. Unless these youngsters always brought field shower kits with them? Danny and Steve pulled fresh clothes on over their soaked skin, every wary of their unwanted audience. 

“Jesus Christ, man. What the hell happened to you?” one of the soldiers demanded, flashing a beam of light over McGarrett’s fresh scars and unhealed wounds. 

“I insulted the wrong sushi chef,” Steve quipped, shoving the intruding light away from his body. 

McGarrett pushed both hands through his wet hair, grabbed Danny’s arm, and kept him close. Steve prowled across the hallway, stomping his big feet into clean boots. Danny stopped long enough to do the same. They were at the threshold of the room where Tank had taken Dr. Fran. Two female soldiers blocked the entrance with dark looks and semi-automatic weapons. 

“I need to talk to Captain Karlsen,” Steve explained. 

“Not in here you don’t, buddy. She’ll be out in a second.” 

“Ruskowski?” Steve asked, pulling himself up to his full height. The beam from a flashlight crossed Steve’s face. 

“Commander McGarrett. Sorry, sir, but you can’t come in. Women and children only in this room. It’s a safe zone.”

"Why do you even need a safe zone?" one of the other soldiers called back. Ruskowski growled her response. 

"Because often in emergency situations, it's men and 'boys' who don't know how to act like human beings," the ensign snarled, shining her light on a couple faces in particular. "Don't make me come over there and wipe off that smirk, Judson. I will shame you as you have never been shamed in your life." 

“Understood,” Steve nodded. “What’s the situation, Ensign?” 

“We brought as many patients in here as we could when the dust starting coming out of the vents. Captain’s got the situation under control. She’s evacuating patients to the roof in small groups. We’re going up the back way, using the far staircase. Commander Marziano is on his way from Pearl-Hickam with a squadron of helos. Emergency E-VAC in progress, sir.”

“Have you seen TJ?” 

“Sir?” 

“Dr. Fran’s grandson?” 

“When she broke ranks and took off, the Captain sent out two, two-man patrols searching for both of them, but there’s been no sign of him,” Ruskowski answered. Inside the room, Tank and Dr. Fran appeared to be discussing the same topic. Dr. Fran was crying, loud and ragged. Tank shot an eye towards the doorway, frowning at Steve. McGarrett ducked out into the hallway, pulling Ruskowski along. 

“Where was he last seen?”

“Headed up to Dr. Weimer’s office. He thought you were up there. He went to rescue you.”

“How long ago?” Steve pressed. 

“Hasn’t been ten minutes.” 

“One five-year old boy? Two, two-man patrols? And you haven’t got dick to show for it? What the hell is the matter with you?” Steve barked angrily, directing his anger at the group of soldiers standing around by the entrance to the security wing. Danny felt a frisson of fear too when staring down that fury. The soldiers were snapping to attention in spite of themselves, arms dropping to their sides, weapons stowed behind their backs. Every last one of them had the good sense to look embarrassed. 

“Sir! Orders were to hold up here until the Captain commands otherwise! Sir!”

“Gimme back my gun. Danny too. We’ll go find TJ. And you,” Steve whirled on Ruskowski, who took a defensive step backwards. “You make sure nothing happens to Dr. Fran. Make sure she gets evacuated next. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, sir!” Ruskowski barked, snapping into a tight stance. 

“And when you’re done with that, everyone from the emergency room is hiding downstairs in the fallout shelter. You need to get them out too.”

“Yes, sir!” Ruskowski barked, hardly daring to breathe. 

Tank appeared out of the safe zone room, tugging Steve by the sleeve towards the far end of the hallway. 

“I sedated Dr. Weimer, and told her you’re going to go find TJ. The situation is under control here. You don’t have to scare the heck out of my kids, Steve.” 

“They're milling around pointing guns at shadows. TJ is five-years old, and he’s out there alone, and they’re standing around here doing nothing about it,” Steve howled. 

“By all rights, I should sit you down on a bed, and keep you there,” Tank growled to Steve even as she opened his shirt, and checked his chest and abdomen. “When this is all said and done, you’re going to stay in bed and rest, if I have to sit on you myself.” 

“I’m fine,” Steve grunted. 

"You're trying to do too much. It's going to take full-body traction to keep you down long enough to heal properly, isn't it? You need to rest."

"I'll rest when I'm dead," Steve quipped.

“Mmnn hmmnn,” Tank muttered skeptically. She straightened his rumpled collar and tugged his shoulders to tight points. “Get your butt out there and find TJ.” 

“Yes, Captain,” Steve answered. 

“When you find him, bring him straight up to the roof. The rain is getting heavier, and it’s expected to last for some time. The rain will help to disperse the drug faster. Where do you think you’re going?” Tank demanded as a small form slide past Ruskowski and her fellow guard at the door to the safe zone room. 

Yu Lan was up and around, if wan and pale. She held her cast to her side, and made a quick bow towards Steve. 

“I must follow and protect him.” 

“I don’t think so, kid. Put your butt back on the bed,” Tank motioned with a thumb over one shoulder. 

"But he needs my help," Yu Lan protested. 

“Are you high?” Danny demanded. Yu Lan straightened up with dignity and hurt in her face. 

“This is my fault.”

“How is this your fault?” Steve asked. 

“This. All of this,” Yu Lan motioned carefully around. She had a fresh bruise on her face, fresh black and blue to go with the yellow and green from Steve man-handling her in the alleyway in Chinatown. 

“Two of the other patients in the secure wing attacked her. You barely escaped with your life,” Tank whispered, petting the young woman gently on the arm. “Yu Lan, this is not your fault. It's Yun Fei's fault. You were being emotionally manipulated into doing his bidding. That isn't on you.” 

“You were right, Commander. He did not come back to rescue me. He came only to hurt you. He did not see me. I do not matter. I am invisible. A ghost,” Yu Lan lamented. 

“That’s not your fault either,” Steve soothed. Yu Lan bowed again to him, and rustled around in the sling over her right arm. 

“I cannot undo what I have done, but I can help you going forward. I will help search for the child.”

“You should stay here where you are safe,” Steve answered. 

“I must follow you. It is imperative.” 

“Why?” Danny demanded. 

Yu Lan removed the heirloom dagger from her sling, and slid it handle-first across her forearm towards Steve. McGarrett slowly pulled the weapon from Yu Lan’s grip, and tested the handle with his fingers. 

“You will need this. I must go where the dagger goes. I must follow you,” she repeated.

“What makes you think we trust you?” Danny smirked. 

“Your worst enemy cannot harm you as much as your own unguarded thoughts,” Yu Lan answered. *** 

“What makes you think you can trust me?” Steve asked Yu Lan. The young woman smirked in reply. 

“Put the blade in my heart if that is your instinct. I will not stop you,” she replied, lifting her arms outward from her body. Steve pouted for a fraction of a second. He tucked the dagger into his belt. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to kill you. But you gotta keep up. Understand? Keep up, and follow my orders, and we’ll get along fine.” 

“Must I also salute?” Yu Lan wondered, lowering her arms with a visible wince. 

“No,” Steve grumbled as if annoyed. Danny followed in Steve’s steps, checked his weapon, and nodded resolutely. 

“You want a gun?” Tank asked Yu Lan. The young girl bowed to Tank, and shook her head no. 

“Be safe, ma’am.” 

“You too,” Karlsen chuckled. "Being around these two is the most dangerous place on the island."

***

Steve and Danny crept up the stairwell without incident, heading for the fifth floor back entrance. Steve punched in the code. Danny peered down over the railing.

"Steve?"

"What?" 

"Where'd she go?" 

Yu Lan had been right behind them when they left the third floor. They could hear Tank marshalling another group of patients and soldiers to head for the roof of the building. The dangerous assassin kept hiding in the shadows as if the safety lights were burning her skin. She had been chanting softly to herself in her native tongue one second, pulling herself painfully up the stairs. When they had reached the fifth floor, Danny had turned back to offer her an arm. Only she was no longer there. 

Steve opened the door. 

“You coming?” he asked. 

“Where did she go?”

“Ninja, Danno.”

“But how…..?”

“Danno, come on,” Steve growled, pushing his partner through the open door and into the dark corridor. “Leave it propped open,” McGarrett muttered. 

“Like hell,” Danny barked. 

“Yu Lan is in the stairwell.”

“You so sure?” Danny smirked. 

“No other doors opened or closed. She has to be in the stairwell,” Steve insisted, taking off his boots and using them to prop open the door. 

“You know, this is not how I envisioned spending my evening,” Danny remarked as he fell in step behind Steve again. They walked back to back down the corridor in a slow-motion sweep, covering ground cautiously, peering into every room. Beyond the confines of the secure wing, there was groaning and howling and scratching at the far end. Someone was rattling the door handle, groaning and screaming. 

“What were you going to do?” Steve wondered. 

“Visit you. Visit Yu Lan. Confiscate that blade. Maybe go home and watch the zombie marathon on the Chiller Channel.”

Steve turned all the way around, and stared down his nose in disbelief. 

“You had to say the word, didn't you?” McGarrett shuddered. 

“What word?” Danny shrugged. All he got in reply was a disappointed, annoyed scowl. 

“TJ?” Steve called out.

“You think he’s out there?” Danny cringed, craning up over Steve’s shoulder, and pointing the barrel of his weapon at the door where they had usually entered.

“I hope not,” Steve gulped. The unholy moaning and groaning was getting louder. 

A sudden BANG! behind them made both men whirl in the direction they had come from. In the light of the exit sign, they could see that the door had closed. Steve’s boots had been tossed off to the side of the hallway. Yu Lan’s wispy frame was briefly visible before she vanished into the shadows. 

The rhythmic moaning and screaming on the far door got louder and louder as Steve and Danny approached. The door to Dr. Fran’s office was open. The entire place had been ransacked. Steve searched around, peered into the closet, into the bathroom, and under the desk. There was no sign of TJ. McGarrett was getting more and more agitated. Danny himself could feel his own skin crawling. All those dark thoughts were finding their way in. Danny fumbled for his phone and dialed almost without looking.

“Hello?” 

“Gracie?” 

“Danno? Where are you? What’s happening? We’re watching the news. What is going on out there?” 

“It’s okay, Monkey. It’s going to be okay. Where are you and Charlie?” 

“We’re at home.” 

“I want you to do something for me, can you?” 

“Yes, Danno.” 

“I want you to lock all the doors, take your little brother, and go hide in the big bathroom upstairs.” 

“What? Why?” Grace questioned. 

“Go in bathroom, turn on the shower, and stay there until I get home.” 

“Okay, Danno. If you think so.” 

“I love you, Monkey. Take care of Charlie for me. I’ll see you soon.” 

The glass cabinet containing Dr. Fran’s son’s military memorabilia had been smashed into a thousand pieces. Danny put away his phone, and watched Steve walk through the chaos, pushing large glass shards out of his way with delicate flicks of his long toes. Danny hurried ahead of Steve, kicking a path clean of glass for Steve to walk in, all the while cursing McGarrett for using his boots to prop open the door for Yu Lan.

The memorial flag had been dragged out of the display case. All of Dr. Fran’s precious pictures were broken. Her son's service medals had been stolen from the case. Steve gathered up the sacred cloth, and briskly dusted it off. Danny watched with growing pride as his partner whipped the flag around, doubling it up in tight triangles, giving it a quick and respectful refold. Wasn't that just like McGarrett? Danny was as patriotic as the next guy, but Steve? He was not going to walk past a flag in the dirt. He had risked his life for that flag. His friends had died for that flag. Danny wanted to hug Steve and apologize for whoever had done this. Steve laid the memorial flag dead-center on Dr. Fran’s disorganized desk, brushing off another minute fleck of glass. Then he knelt down again into the chaos of glass and wood. He retrieved Tommy Weimer’s scorched and damaged dog tags, and pulled them into his pocket. 

“Let’s go find TJ,” Steve murmured. 

“Right behind you,” Danny nodded. 

Danny followed, puzzled when Steve shuffled around in the closet for a moment. McGarrett retrieved a plastic bin which hospitals kept at patients’ bedsides for when the guests were nauseous. It wasn’t a bed pan but a big, pink, plastic rectangle. 

“Whaddya doing?” Danny inquired. Steve gave him a skeptical look. How could Danny not understand what he was up to? Steve stuck the corner of the bin in the bathroom sink, and turned the water on high. 

“We need a little insurance," McGarrett explained.

“What are you going to do with that?” Danny asked, watching the water rise in the pink rectangle. 

“We’re going through that door,” Steve answered. 

“What?” Danny gulped. “No, Steve, no. I’ve played this video game before. Even I know, when there are zombies banging on the door, you don’t open it. You take your ass in the other direction, as fast as you can move.” 

“We need to go through that door.”

“TJ is probably hiding in one of the rooms here.” 

“No, he isn’t. If he were, he would have heard us come up the hall. He would have recognized our voices, and he would have come out by now. TJ isn’t in here, therefore he has to be out there. He’s out there, and he’s alone, and I’m not leaving him.” 

“Okay, Steve. Okay. But listen to me. We find TJ; we grab TJ; and we head for the roof. Just like Tank said.” 

“We find TJ, we grab TJ, and you take him to the roof for EVAC. I’m heading back down to get Angel and the others.” 

“Steve…..” Danny whined. “No, no, no, no. We get out, and we call for backup, and we let someone else go down into the spooky, spooky, sub-basement fallout shelter where the zombies are hiding. Okay?” 

Without warning, Steve lifted the pink plastic bin, and poured it straight over Danny’s head, drenching him from head to foot, leaving his already-disarrayed hair hanging in dripping strands over his face and neck. 

“What the fuck was that?” Danny asked, spitting out the water he had sucked in in surprise.

“You said it again." 

"Said what?" 

"Danno, you mention zombies one more time, and I’m locking you in this room for your own good. You hear me?” Steve said, getting right down in Danny’s face and touching their noses together. “Look at me. Danno? You're starting to hallucinate. Your eyes are dilating. Your heartrate is speeding up.”

“Of course my heart is racing. Are you kidding me?!” Danny bellowed, arms flying up out of reflex.

“How’s your skin? Itchy? Uncomfortable?” 

“I’m fine, babe."

"You are not fine!"

"I’m not weirding out on you.” 

“No more zombie talk.”

“No more zombie talk."

Danny was quiet for all of two seconds before more words bubbled out.

"But they are out there, Steve. They’re out there,” Danny babbled. 

Steve dropped the bin, grabbed Danny’s collar, and stuffed him face-first into the sink. Steve turned the water on high. Danny was flailing and protesting loudly. He fought his way back up, throwing water everywhere. 

“You son of a bitch,” Danny spat, thinking about how good it would feel to punch Steve in the chest and watch him crumble to the ground. 

“There are no zombies, Danno.”

“You dunk me one more time, asshole, and I’m’a show you zombies,” Danny threatened, arms and hands moving around, fists doubling up. Steve snatched the bin and refilled it. There was a soft giggle at the doorway before Yu Lan’s shadow moved on. 

“Danno, at my back, on my mark,” Steve called out as they approached the banging, shaking entrance door. Steve readied the water bin. Yu Lan was breathing hard, leaning on the wall. She had slipped out of her sling, her right arm cast swinging free. Danny punched in the code, and yanked open the door. 

Two half naked people fell through onto the floor. Steve threw the water on them. There were shouts of alarm and fury, the invocation of a godhead or two. Danny discovered a flashlight in one of the many pockets on his camo pants. He flicked the flashlight on to banish the darkness. Yu Lan slipped past the writhing, squealing, squelching people on the floor in disarrayed hospital scrubs. The man had his pants around his ankles, but played like that wasn’t unusual. Maybe it wasn’t. 

“We were looking for the exit,” the man mumbled as he pointed past Steve, eyes glazed, arm shaking. 

“Out the door, up the stairs, get to the roof,” Steve ordered, pulling to one side to allow the couple through. Danny caught his breath, focusing on the man’s face. 

“Helldorfer?” Danny asked. Steve glared at the departing man with narrowed eyes. The nurse followed behind Helldorfer, adjusting her clothes, wiping off her smeared lipstick. Steve's hackles were rising. His wet hair was standing up. He growled low in his throat. Danny knew that sound. He grabbed one of Steve's hips to keep him from taking off after the dickhead doctor. 

"Kill, kill, kill..." Steve whispered, eyes glittering with blood-lust.

"Let him go, babe. We got bigger fish to fry."

Steve snorted, but he did obey. 

“Isn't that just like some people?” Danny complained, lowering the flashlight, accidently panning across Helldorfer’s bare ass. “We’ll all about to die in a z….” 

Steve faced Danny, eyes focused on his blabbering mouth. Danny watched Steve watching him, and changed courses mid-word.

“Z….apocalypse, and that ass is playing 'hide the salami' with some anonymous blonde nurse,” Danny continued.

Steve lifted Danny up by his shoulders and pinned him to the stairwell wall. 

“What did I tell you about using that word, Danno?” 

“Okay, Steve. There are no zombies. Put me down.” 

Danny’s boots hit the floor, and he straightened up with a snap. He seized the plastic bin into his hands, and banged Steve on top of the head a couple times. 

“You monumental asshole! Someone oughta punch you in the face five times a day,” Danny exclaimed, banging on Steve’s head some more, because, God, that felt awfully good. McGarrett snatched the bin away from Danny, and pulled him through the stairwell and into the opposite corridor. Steve darted through the first doorway, and stuck the bin under the faucet in the bathroom. Danny stayed at the doorway, eyes scanning the quiet, dark hall. 

“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all,” Danny was rambling. He scratched at his arm, shaking and trembling. He could feel the dust caking up in the wetness on his skin, sticking to his face, in his eyelashes even. The dark, dark thoughts intruded again – the smell of old blood, the metallic taste of fear and sweat. They could die here. They could. Anything could happen in a hospital, man. They had sealed wards, and secret experiments going on all the time. High-level security patients with unknown, undocumented diseases which could spread like wildfire in the right population under the right conditions. Oh my god. Hadn’t they had cases like this? Hadn’t they battled situations like this before? The asshole with the infected honey bees and a grudge against the US government? They could die. This was it. This was it, man. They were gonna die here.

Danny realized to his horror that he was speaking out loud again. He no more than got the words out when another deluge went over the top of his head. Danny sputtered and spit out the droplets. 

“Steve?” 

“Yes, Danno?” Steve replied even as he dunked himself under the faucet. McGarrett tossed off the excess water like a big dog. 

“You do that again without warning me, and I’m’a punch you in the face. For real, babe. Not kidding. Not in the least bit,” Danny warned. 

“ ‘Kay, Danno,” Steve agreed with a grin. He was refilling his bin. 

Danny’s ears pricked up. 

“Movement,” he whispered fearfully. 

“It’s not zombies,” Steve promised. 

“It could be!! How the hell would you know?!” Danny snarled down low, getting into a crouch and scampering across the hallway. To his surprise, Steve exited the room upright. He set the bin on the ground, and popped the empty clip out of the Makarov. He sighed, and dug around in his pockets. All he came back with was a flashlight, which he squeezed in his hand, then stuffed back in. 

“Oh shit, these aren’t my pants,” Steve moaned. He tucked the Makarov into a pocket and picked up the bin again. 

“Great. That’s great. Just fucking great, babe,” Danny snapped and snarled. 

“We’re fine, Danny.”

“Yeah, if we meet the Wicked Witch of the West, we’ll be okay,” Danny growled when Steve steadied the bin with both arms. 

“On your feet. Standard security sweep. We’ll clear out the rooms one by one. TJ has got to be here somewhere.” 

“What are we gonna use for ammo, Steve?” Danny called back. 

“How many shots you got?” 

Danny checked, scoffed, and slammed the clip back in. 

“Six shots.” 

“We can work with that,” Steve beamed, leveraging the water bin aloft. Danny blinked as he stared at the heirloom blade. Was it his imagination, or what was that glowing faintly? 

"Goddamn it, Steve! We're going to die......." Danny wailed. 

A tiny yelp sounded from the far end of the corridor. Danny fired a shot out of reflex. A door slammed open and closed. Steve threw the bin up in the air, and rushed past Danny like a fleet-footed wolf, up on his toes, running for all he was worth. 

The shadows against the walls moved like a wave of limbs pouring over one another, running, pulling, twisting, flowing out of the dark edges and into the center, coagulating into full-sized shapes swathed in black. Steve was running right into the center of them, eyes focused on TJ. The little boy's mouth was wide open, and his eyes seemed twice as large as usual. He was bellowing like he was being chased by the Devil himself. 

Arcs of water splashed everywhere from the bin that Steve had thrown aside. Danny was jarred into movement when the water hit him. He raced after Steve, shouting as he fired at the shapes which were moving in on TJ, arms snatching, teeth bared. 

His last five shots were gone too fast. 

TJ climbed Steve’s frame and wrapped tight around his chest, shrieking in terror. Steve raised the heirloom blade, and slashed at anything that came near enough to hurt. 

Except the black-clad shapes weren’t getting any closer, were they?

Danny hit Steve’s back and spun around, tossing his empty gun aside. He took quick swings at the shapes to keep them at bay. As Steve and Danny turned, back to back, TJ kept screaming.

"Nana!"

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, buddy.”

Steve was chanting softly, one arm tight around the child. Danny wished he could be as positive. Yu Lan drifted out of the shadows, and stopped at the perimeter of the circle around Danny and Steve and TJ. She got down on her knees, and pointed at the weapon Steve was holding aloft. There were murmurs among the shadows. Whatever Yu Lan had whispered made the menacing forms crumble downward, dropping in row after row to their knees, heads bowed. 

“Steve?” Danny questioned, arms itching, body shaking. He was beginning to sweat and tremble. "What is this? What's going on?" 

“Follow me,” Steve replied. He held TJ tight. Danny fell in line. 

They hadn’t taken three steps through the bowing shadows when the overhead sprinkles turned on high, and fire alarms wailed through the night. The noise was deafening. In succession, lights flickered and stir to life. They could see in their reflections in the windows. Power was returning throughout the hospital. As the lights came on, the black-clad figures stirred like someone had dropped a rock in a moonlit pond. Between one blink and the next, with a rustle and rush, the hallway was empty. Wet and noisy, but empty. 

Steve hugged TJ tight. TJ put his thumb in his mouth, snuggled against Steve, and whimpered quietly. 

Steve slid the dagger back into his belt as the light continued to rise. They could see helicopters outside, maneuvering for landing spaces, jockeying for purchase on the roof of the building as well as the top of the parking garage. Steve dug into his pocket, pulled out Tommy Weimer’s dog tags, and slid them around TJ’s neck. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve promised, drying away TJ’s tears. 

“Where’s Nana?” TJ gulped. 

“I’ll take you to her,” Steve promised. 

“I have a better question. Where is Yu Lan?” Danny wondered, sweeping his eyes around and back-walking Steve and TJ towards the exit door. 

“She’s around somewhere,” Steve was sure. 

The door opened before they reached it. Chin Ho Kelly walked through, flanked by camo-clad soldiers and national guards. Chin took one look at the three of them, and aimed his green, plastic, neon weapon at Steve. 

Chin caught Steve directly in the face with a gigantic spray of water. The look of surprise on McGarrett's face was totally worth the price of admission. 

Danny was suddenly paralyzed with inappropriate giggles, sliding down until he reached the floor. One of the other national guardsmen aimed a plastic weapon at Danny, and caught him full in the face too. 

Steve licked away a couple drops of water before shaking his head to dispel the rest. 

“Has everyone been evacuated?” McGarrett asked. 

“All patients and personnel have been evacuated from the security wing, and out of the sub-basement,” Chin nodded. 

“Has Dr. Fran been evacuated?” Steve asked. Chin hit him with another spray of water. Steve burbled, and snorted. 

“Everyone’s out except you idiots,” Chin answered, taking a moment to check his reserve tank. 

“What’s the situation with the rest of the island?” Steve worried. Chin lifted the neon-green plastic gun. “What? What did I say?" Steve blanched. 

Another deluge drenched Steve. Three guards and Chin were aiming at him. Danny's chipmunk laughter echoed in the hallway. He never even felt the deluge drenching him. 

“Steve, look at me. You're hallucinating again. There’s nothing wrong with the rest of the island. The hospital was the only place that got hit,” Chin said. 

“But you said on the phone…crap....”

Steve closed his eyes in advance of another deluge. 

“We never talked on the phone, Steve. The hospital was the only place that got hit,” Chin assured him, not without a faint smile. “Are we good?” 

“We’re good,” Steve agreed grimly. He peered over at Danny, who was laughing so hard, he was wiping away tears. “You done yet?” Steve muttered.

“I’ll pay good money if you do it again,” Danny tempted Chin. 

"How much money you got?" Chin whispered as an aside. 

“Why don’t you tell Chin about the zombies, Danno?” Steve growled. 

“Zombies?” Chin asked, taking the neon-plastic gun away from the guy standing next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yu Lan's quote about unguarded thoughts is from Buddha.


	22. Restful Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it helps with visualization, picture a young Michael Emerson as Yuri Novotny.

“I must say, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, that I am surprised your doctor released you from her care.”

“My doctor is a little under the weather herself at the moment.” 

“You slipped away without permission?” 

“It was an emergency situation.”

“Yes, but still in yet, your countenance would seem to suggest you might require more than a brief examination and a quick release.” 

“I’m fine,” Steve sighed impatiently. The mousy, thin man with tiny, round glasses bounced his fingertips together, sitting up a bit straighter in the chair before McGarrett’s desk. 

“I do have medical training. I would be more than happy to….” 

“No,” Steve answered firmly. 

There was something very unsettling about Yuri Novotny. He would have been classified as a ‘cold fish’ in any language. Perhaps it was the way his icy eyes glittered when he stared around Steve’s office. Or maybe it was because the young man reminded Steve of the creepy German villain from Raiders of the Lost Ark. His glasses, his physique, even his voice sounded the same! McGarrett didn’t want to be unkind to the young man, but it was hard not to want to keep him at a safe distance when every freaking hair on Steve’s body was standing on end in alarm. 

Maybe it was the Cloud 9 working its way out of his system. Or maybe it wasn’t.

Steve turned his attention towards the person storming around his office, pacing back and forth, and fuming with annoyance. 

“I can’t believe I missed everything, waiting at the airport for you, you, you. You filthy Oprichnik. It is entirely your fault that I missed all the excitement,” Morozova lamented angrily. Novotny had a dual reaction to Morozova’s looming presence when she stopped pacing and glowered down at him. He cringed back from her while at the same time he followed her with worshipful eyes. 

“I am profoundly sorry to cause you such grief, Senior Lieutenant Morozova.” 

Novotny bowed his head and cowered as he spoke. But he seemed all too eager for Morozova's angry reaction, waited for her only-just-short swing at his face in undisguised anticipation.

“I could have spent my evening battling ninjas,” Morozova whined, curling up her hands in frustration. 

“I’m so sorry to have deprived you,” Novotny pined, but not without a hint of humor in his thin, tight smile. 

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe the ninjas were real,” Steve offered. 

“Imaginary ninjas! Even better! To do battle with the forces of your own mind?!” Morozova lamented. She folded her tall frame down into the other chair before Steve’s desk. Tossed up a sad sigh, and rested her elbows on her knees, her chin in her left hand. Novotny watched her from the side, his thin smile twitching. He tentatively patted her shoulder with the very edge of his fingertips. 

“I am sorry.” 

Morozova straightened up, swatted Novotny’s hand away, and pouted for all she was worth. Novotny nursed the slap mark with delight in his face. 

“Where is your Besyonok?” Frosty asked. 

“Danny is momentarily indisposed,” Steve said with a faint smile. He had sent Danny to the men’s room with a considerable pile of magazines, and told him to not come out until he could produce the handcuff key. Chin and Kono had gone home hours ago. It was just Danny and Steve holding down the fort. Just Steve, really. 

“I am profoundly sorry for the delay in my arrival, but we had to clear proper channels before I could put down on American soil,” Novotny continued softly. 

“You make it sound like you flew the plane yourself,” Frosty snorted derisively. 

“It may surprise you to know that I do have basic aeronautic training, and could indeed have piloted the craft on my own, if I had been allowed to do so, which I would never be allowed, but all the same. Not all of us are able to breeze through security checkpoints as easily as you can, Senior Lieutenant.” 

“Don't you have the proper clearance?” Morozova smirked. It seemed the words were a double-entendre, meant as a slight against Novotny's unimposing, slight build. He was at least five inches shorter than his superior officer.

“I could not flirt and charm my way through as you did. I needed to show the proper paperwork,” Novotny explained. “Captain Reznikov is most anxious for you to return. Your flight will leave in an hour.”

“I suppose I should pack,” Frosty joked. Steve stood up and slipped her the Makarov she had loaned him. 

“Spasibo,” Steve offered. 

“Pazhaluysta,” Morozova bowed slightly, slid the gun into her holster, and sat back down. “All right, Oprichnik. I am packed.” 

“Have you any news from Dima?” Steve asked. “How are things in Moscow?” 

“The authorities remain on high alert in case of any other attacks like the one at Lomonosov University, but thus far, there have been no further incidents.” 

“Any sign of Sean Dion?” 

“Not a one. It’s like he vanished into thin air.” 

Steve shuddered at Frosty’s words, and sat down again. 

“From what Chin and Kono pieced together, after reading the fiction selections that Jade Kalani provided to us, this entire scenario was a ploy on Yun Fei’s part. We played right into his hands,” Steve mourned. 

“In what way?” Frosty asked. 

“Sean Dion’s stories all centered around a fictional army of teens with superpowers who are under the sway of a mystic shogun.”

“Isn’t Yun Fei Chinese? I thought shoguns were Japanese.” 

“Quite right. But Sean apparently didn’t let factual data stand in the way of telling a good story,” Steve smirked. “The final short tale revolved around one of the teens being captured by the rival army. The shogun sacrificed himself to allow the teen to escape.” 

“Ugh,” Frosty said as she rolled her eyes. “It sounds like very bad fiction.” 

“Nevertheless I was wrong about Yun Fei’s affection and attachment for Yu Lan,” Steve admitted. “He knew she was in no shape to slip away from authorities at the hospital, not without a diversion. So Yun Fei concocted a plan to spring her by providing that needed distraction. He kidnapped my sister Mary, to use her as leverage against me, to keep me and my team occupied. While the authorities were arresting Yun Fei for kidnapping and threatening my sister, and he delayed us by dragging out his interrogation, his ‘minions’ were laying siege to Queens Medical.”

“I don’t follow,” Frosty said as she shook her head. 

“Do you not? It’s quite brilliant really. He sacrificed himself to gain his pupil’s release, don’t you see?” Novotny interjected. 

“His people released Cloud 9 into the ventilation system at the hospital. Everyone there was exposed. Yu Lan was supposed to slip out in all the chaos, but she couldn’t because she was attacked again in security wing. Then she was being guarded by Tank, um, Captain Karlsen. There was no way she would be able to escape," Steve added. 

“Then you showed up, and she saw her chance,” Novotny bubbled with excitement, happy to display that he understood. “She quite easily convinced you, quite easily, sir, you are sentimental and soft, surprising so. She convinced you she was hurt by Yun Fei’s apparent disowning of her. She convinced you she would help you find the missing child. But helping you provided her with the opportunity to escape her watchful guards. She followed you until you found the child, and then she slipped away while you were distracted by your hallucinations.” 

“Yes. That’s it. More or less,” Steve grumbled. 

“Do you still have the ivory-handled blade?” Morozova wondered. 

“I made sure it was returned to evidence. Although, with Yu Lan’s disappearance, it doesn’t do us much good,” Steve mourned. 

“On the contrary. If you can prove that Yun Fei is the one who purchased the dagger, and that he gave the dagger to Yu Lan, then can the blade not be used as further evidence of his malfeasance? He provided her with the blade with which she harmed you. That makes him an accomplice to your injuries,” Novotny offered the thought hopefully. He was as anxious to curry favor with McGarrett as he was with Morozova. 

“I suppose,” Steve murmured. He was feeling less and less cordiality towards this creepy fellow. 

“Yun Fei is irretrievably ruined. Even if he somehow manages to escape American justice for his crimes here, and escapes Russian justice for his crimes in Moscow, he can never go home again to China, not without facing more charges there. He sacrificed himself, he sacrificed everything, to gain Yu Lan’s release. It seems he is quite fond of her indeed,” Novotny decided. 

“Very much so,” Steve agreed. 

“Where do you think Yu Lan went?” Morozova asked. 

“Back to China to carry on with her master’s evil plans?” Novotny asked, eyebrows bouncing once or twice with ill-concealed glee. 

“I’m not so sure,” Steve answered with narrowed eyes. He stifled a yawn, and rolled his neck back and forth to the tune of cracking and creaking. 

“What was it like, Commander?” Novotny scooted to the edge of his seat, cold eyes watching Steve for his reactions. 

“What was what like?” McGarrett asked. He didn’t like the feeling of being observed closely by this mousy, creepy man. 

“Could you tell when you slipped from reality into hallucination? Is the drift noticeable? Can you counteract the effects of the drug with a strong will, with a mind strong enough to feel the shift? Can you tell yourself, this, this is not reality, and therefore, I must temper my reactions?” 

“No. There was no noticeable shift. It felt real to me. All of it.” 

“Including the army of ninjas?” Novotny wondered. 

“Yes.” 

“But the damages in the emergency room?” Morozova interjected. “That was real. The broken doors, the damaged glass, the signs of forced entry.” 

“There were at least a few of Yun Fei’s minions running around the hospital, helping to add to the genuine feel of the drug’s hallucinatory effects,” Steve agreed. “But not nearly as many as Danny and I saw on the third floor and the fifth floor.” 

“I’m curious to know how you and Detective Williams managed to have the same waking dream at the same time,” Novotny puzzled. “This does not happen, not in my experience. The drug is designed to conjure your most dreadful nightmare. How were you both seeing the same thing at the same time? And what about the child? What was he seeing?”

“TJ isn’t talking about what he saw. He is in the hospital with Dr. Fran for right now. His mother is flying back from business abroad to be with him,” Steve said.

“How awful for a small child to be dosed with a dreadful drug like that,” Morozova huffed. “Who would do such a thing, and why? This is what I keep asking myself. Why would he do such a thing as this?” 

“The Dreamweaver is a sadist, of course. He takes great pleasure in hurting other people, in watching their reactions, in ramping up his mind games in order to increase your pain and his pleasure. A classic sadist,” Novotny answered.

“But the drugs he manufactures to help manage cancer patients’ terminal pain? Why would a sadist help relieve someone’s pain?” Steve asked. 

“But don’t you see, sir? That’s brilliant too. By offering to help ease someone’s pain, do you not have a very close-up view of their continuing agony? It’s not the results which please him. It’s the experimentation, the permission to have a bed-side seat for those patients’ medical misery. He is truly one of the most cruel men I have ever encountered.”

“Ever, in your long and distinguished professional career?” Morozova mused wickedly. Novotny shrugged as an acknowledgement to her remark. 

“It is true that I have little factual experience, but I am smart enough to read, to learn from the previous cases worked by the other officers who have come before me.” 

“Is your little friend going to be all right?” Frosty asked. 

“TJ is going to be fine. Tank thought he should stay in the hospital at least a day though. I’m going to go visit him and Dr. Fran both in the morning.”

“Which is only a few hours away,” Novotny stretched his short arms, wrinkled up his pointed nose, and surveyed Morozova once more. “May I drive you to the airport, ma’am?” 

“I suppose you may. I must return to my doom. Dima will not be at all pleased to see me. But you speak as though you will not be returning with me?” 

“No, ma’am. Captain Reznikov has asked me to stay and compare notes with the Lieutenant Commander about this case, to continue to act as a liaison as you and he scour Moscow to find Sean Dion, and any of his compatriots, before they can act again.” 

“I have to go home, but you get to stay?” Frosty grumbled. "You get a vacation, and I get to go home and get my ass chewed out?"

“I won’t be more than a week or two,” Novotny promised. “I would very much to like to speak with the others who were involved in the attack on Queens Medical Hospital. I want to learn how this mutual hallucination was shaped. How did Commander McGarrett and Detective Williams convince each other of what the other was seeing? How did Yu Lan persuade you she could be trusted? How did she add to the ambiance of your hallucination? How did she manage to escape without you noticing?” 

“I was more concerned about TJ than Yu Lan,” Steve said, not so sure he wasn’t being insulted, though he couldn’t prove it.

“Would you mind if I hypnotized you?” Novotny asked hopefully. 

“Would you mind if I punched you in the face?” Steve retorted crisply. 

Novotny blinked rapidly, and tiny circles of red appeared on his cheekbones. His mouth hung open to the sound of Frosty’s titters of amusement. 

“Think fast, babe!” 

Danny popped into the office, and tossed an object into Steve’s hands. McGarrett rocketed up out of his chair with a bellow of protest, sputtering obscenities. One would have thought Danny had lobbed a live grenade onto Steve’s desk, instead of a small key. It’s possible even that a live grenade would have been met with more sangfroid than the object in question. 

“Jesus holy fucking goddamn it, Danny!” Steve exclaimed, dropping the key and glaring in stunned disbelief at his partner. He wiped his hands off on his shirt, his pants, his desk. Williams was cackling like a stoned chipmunk, rocking back and forth as he grinned ear to ear. 

“Babe, don’t worry. I sterilized it.” 

“Jesus fucking…..” Steve continued to swear profusely. 

“Didn’t even really need it back. Chin used the spare key hours ago. By the way, did you know that Yun Fei has been transferred from US custody to the Chinese embassy for extradition back home?” 

“Oh! Isn’t that interesting?” Novotny chirped in amusement. 

“Who the hell decided that?!” Steve shouted. 

“The Governor,” Danny answered slowly. 

“Why in the hell….” 

“Because here, Yun Fei would likely receive a life sentence for drug dealing, but in China, he could receive the death penalty,” Danny answered. 

“My ass. They’ll give him a slap on the wrist, or a pat on the head, and send him on his way,” Steve decided begrudgingly. 

“I doubt that he will get off with such a light punishment, Commander. After all, he has damaged already-fractious relations between China and Russia, and China and the United States. It is far more likely that his own government will punish him very severely, use him as an example,” Novotny replied. 

“We can only hope so,” Morozova frowned. 

“Then they’ll steal his formula, and find a dark and evil purpose for it,” Danny surmised. 

Novotny nodded, “That is of course possible. There’s no denying that Cloud 9 could have numerous and devastating military applications.” 

“You’re making me feel warm and fuzzy all over,” Danny chortled. “I guess we'll have to let the experts plan a contingency plan. As for right now, it’s after midnight. I feel like I haven’t slept in days. I’m going home to my kids. You idiots, all of you, are on your own until tomorrow morning. Try not to burn down my island until then. Senior Lieutenant Morozova, it was nice working with you.” 

“So formal, Detective Williams. It was a pleasure. Sorry about your car. I hope to work with you both again soon,” Frosty said. 

“You, don’t go getting yourself shot, stabbed, tortured, or otherwise molested before morning. I need my beauty sleep. Can you handle that, Steven? Staying out of trouble until morning?”

“I’ll do my best,” Steve promised as he scooted the handcuff key into his top drawer, using a large paperclip to pull it across the desk. 

“We should be leaving, ma’am, if we have any hope of getting you on your return flight,” Novotny murmured to Morozova. 

“Sorry to see you go,” Steve said, extending a hand to Frosty. She bypassed his hand, and gave him a brutal hug which left him wincing and cringing. 

“I am glad you are all right. You. Where are you going? Come, let me hug you,” she said. The embrace she gave Danny was even more brutal, and it was accompanied by a swat on the butt. Danny squeaked and batted her away. He smoothed his clean dress shirt, tugged his tie straight, and made a face at Steve, because Steve was making a face at him, and it was only fair to return the favor. 

“With your permission, Commander, I will return in the morning to discuss the case further with you. I find I myself am tired suddenly as well,” Novotny bowed to Steve, and extended a hand. 

McGarrett stared at the extended extremity, stared at Novotny, and slowly, cautiously offered a return handshake. Steve immediately wished he hadn’t. Novotny’s skin was predictably as cold as his eyes. His hand was as limp as a cadaver's. His smile had all the slippery appeal of undercooked eggs. Steve shuddered and let go. Novotny smiled even more brightly. 

“Good night, asshole,” Danny said, giving Steve a quick, fake punch in the gut before sliding an arm around his shoulders for a brief hug. He pecked a kiss to Steve’s cheek, and pulled away. Steve was reluctant to let go, but allowed Danny to leave nonetheless. 

“Give my love to Grace and Charlie,” Steve called wistfully. 

“Will do, babe.” 

Danny was gone, just that quickly. Morozova and Novotny followed in his wake. Steve had never felt so alone. 

The discussion between the two Russian police officers was audible through the open door as they followed Danny out into the corridors, down the stairs, and into the night. Steve stared around at the paperwork on his desk, filling with impotent annoyance at the idea that his perp was being shipped back home to face justice. Worse, that the Governor had whisked his perp right out from under him without calling him first to let him know. No point in finishing his reports tonight. It didn’t matter fuck-all, did it? He was never going to get the chance to make Yun Fei pay for what he had done. Steve folded the files together, and dropped them in the drawer. It was time for him to go home. 

The drive didn’t take long, but Steve’s eyes were already drooping. Now that all the excitement was done and over with, he would get a chance to rest. He promised himself he was going to sleep like the dead, at least until morning, when he was going to go visit Dr. Fran and TJ. Maybe enjoy the moment of Zen of visiting his doctor being a patient in her own hospital. He should bring her a gift, some flowers, something for being the World's Worst Patient Ever. He should also bring toy cars for TJ, and a peanut butter sandwich or two. 

Yawning, Steve pulled into the driveway at home. The McGarrett residence was dark and quiet. All the windows were open. Mary clearly was not as security conscious as she should have been! A quiet breeze was blowing, flavored with the hypnotic smell of native plumeria. Steve locked the front door behind, and set the alarm, stifling another yawn. A glimmer out the back window caught his eyes. He went straight through the house and out onto the lanai. No sign of Mary. She must have been asleep upstairs. He thought about going up to peek in on her, make sure she was okay, but he decided that might be just a little fucking creepy, so he didn’t. She was an adult. She didn’t need him hovering over her. All the same, he would check on her before he went to bed. 

Steve sat down on his favorite wooden chair, and watched the stars overhead. He listened to the ocean, and her gentle rolling, the rhythmic push and pull of the tide. The dark night wasn’t frightening or eerie. The blackness was soothing. The breezes washed over him, mussing his hair and stroking his skin. He extended his elbows up onto the armrests, but quickly pulled back again. A quick remembrance bit into him-- of wooden chair arms scraping his skin, leather cuffs cutting off circulation, and water being poured into his mouth and nose. Wo Fat laughing in the background as Steve thrashed. 

Steve battled the unwanted memory away. He folded his hands over his waist instead, let his arms support his sides. As he dozed lightly, one hand slid down. His fingertips brushed the ground. 

A small form snaked through the grass, and announced itself with a soft meow. Fur brushed Steve’s hanging hand. A wet nose kissed his palm. Steve stroked the cat out of reflex. Long tail, short fur. It was Meatball visiting from across the street, not Mimi from next door. Steve was pleased when he heard a creaking, and felt the additional weight added to his chair. Strong feet kneaded his leg, then his side. Meatball curled up against Steve, and purred with contentment. It was the lullaby of Meatball purring, and the ocean rolling, and the breezes flowing which pulled Steve into a restful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and suggestions! Thanks also for slogging through a 22 chapter epic. I promise the next story will involve more sex, and fewer hospitals.


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